Giving Fantasia: The Taking Fantasia Sequel
by sultal
Summary: Four broken lives. Two different countries. One king. Evil everywhere. The sequel to Taking Fantasia, and the return of Ariel Triton, Peter Pan, Wendy Darling, and Jim Hawkins...Fantasian Guardians, cursed to an eternity apart. A Disney/ Non Disney Crossover (Introducing the Otherlanders: Jack Frost, Sinbad, Hiccup, Kayley, Garrett and many, many more).
1. Chapter 1: Sinbad

**sultal's note: surprise! There IS a reason for the day-early post. Explanation in the chapter and below. Also - a present and possible contest for you all.**

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 **Chapter 1: Sinbad**

"What the fuck happened in Fantasia?"

Ruber glanced. A twitch curled under his eye and through his lips

"Charming language..." he said to the pirate hanging off the shrouds. "... _Captain_ Sinbad."

The pirate turned. He beamed at Ruber with sunny brown eyes. Then, head thrown to the salty breeze, Sinbad laughed.

Yes, Captain Sinbad. The gallant, courageous, devilishly handsome master of his ship, _The Princess_ _,_ and ruler of the Seven Seas...plus some. But those were his _less_ admirable qualities. Sinbad was also a lying, reckless, cheating scum. Perfect for piracy.

"Well you know me." Sinbad swung from the shrouds. "Go big or go home!"

"And a _stunning_ vocabulary to match, Captain." Ruber joined Sinbad at the bulwark. "But why waste it on Fantasia?"

Sinbad gazed into the sunset. Hot magenta rays melted into the ocean. The western horizon was on fire, but behind it was another land. A land called Fantasia.

Fantasia.

Sinbad stared. The sunset colors burned his eyes as he remembered.

He had fallen in love in Fantasia. Head-over-heels, insanely fallen in love with a Fantasian girl. She was a wild one; unbounded as the wind, relentless as a storm, and smart as a whip. And sweet mama did she have incredible eyes...among _other_ incredible things. Sinbad sighed. _What a woman._

Such a woman, in fact, Sinbad needed her. Their teamwork was dynamite as their first kiss, and Sinbad knew that _together_ they could conquer every adventure. So, as pirates do, Sinbad kidnapped the girl, brought her to sea, knelt down, and asked for her hand in marriage. She punched him, kissed him, said yes to him, and together they sailed into the golden horizon and lived happily ever after.

Just kidding.

Sinbad glowered. Heavily he watched the sun drop.

They had so many adventures. _So many_. So many adventures with countless monsters, villains, and near-death-experiences. It was heaven.

Who would have thought that the one thing to end it all, was a child? A baby boy. Her baby boy. _His_...baby boy.

Sinbad's insides recoiled as the memories became painful.

She had ended it. Without hesitation she refused every adventure, except for the one crying in the cradle. She wanted a family. She wanted to settle. She wanted to raise their baby boy into a man. She wanted the adventures to end. Forever.

Sinbad had seen her regret. He'd felt her restlessness. So he tempted her. Every trick and every temptation Sinbad used to bait her inner turmoil. But she could not be persuaded. It was one of his wife's more infuriating character flaws. Well actually she had two: stubbornness and love.

Her sacrifice was admirable. Too admirable. And since Sinbad was (1) crazy about her and (2) not about to be shown-up by her bravery, he followed her to Fantasia. And as it turned out, raising a baby boy _was_ an adventure. A stinky-diaper-sleepiness-night-Christmas-presents-piggy-back-ride-amazing adventure.

But then it ended. This time it _utterly_ ended.

And he ended it. On the dawn of their son's eleventh birthday, Sinbad left. He ran away. And he never looked back. All because...

Sinbad rubbed his left palm. A scar, red as the sunset, stung beneath his thumb.

Sinbad sighed. Ruber was right. He had a foul mouth. But there were two names Sinbad refused to speak. Two names that he could still taste on his tongue.

Sarah and Jim. Hawkins. His wife and son. Gone forever, like two shooting stars spitting in and out of his life.

Sinbad spit. _Well, so much for sentiment!_

Popping about-face, Sinbad sailed across the deck. Something had _clearly_ happened in Fantasia! He had no idea what, but it was something weird, traumatic, and smelled an _awful_ lot like Sinbad's two favorite words: _extremely profitable_.

"Ruber!" Sinbad unsheathed his scimitar. He waved it ceremoniously. "Rrrrrrally the troops!"

Coolly, Ruber nodded. "All hands hoay!"

The crew reacted simultaneously. "Huh?"

"Get your butts up here!" Sinbad called. Cheerfully he prowled the beam, waiting for his crew. They crawled like insects from every part of the ship but gathered like sharks, sniffing the air for blood.

Sinbad swelled with pride. The pirates of _The Princess_! His crew! Never had such filthy, black hearted scoundrels sailed the Seven Seas! God - he loved them dearly.

First, there were the Ruskies -Vladimir Vanya Vonitsky Vasilovich, Dimitri, and Rasputin. Landlubbers all of them, but worth their weight in gold. Vladimir - Vlad for short - and Dimitri were con men. Vlad was portly, annoyingly cheery, and a master at luring victims into a false sense of security. Dimitri was a young, sarcastic opportunist with a conscience crooked as his nose. And Rasputin... was gross. Literally putrefying before their eyes, Rasputin was a black magic mystic. His gaol: revenge against everybody. And Sinbad was more than okay with that.

Second there were the El Dorados - Tzekel Kan, Chel, Miguel, and Tulio. Tzekel Kan and Chel were passionate people with passionate indulgences. Tzekel Kan craved blood lust, and Chel just lusted. However, both were vicious with a harpoon so Sinbad welcomed them aboard.

Miguel and Tulio were partners in crime sharing one characteristic - they were greedy bastards. Other than that, they were different as day and night. _Life-is-a-bowl-of-cherries_ Miguel was blonde, wide-eyed, and had the energy of a ferret. _I-chopped-the-cherry-tree-down-after-chipping-my-tooth-on-a-pit_ Tulio was raven-haired, cynical and neurotic. But they both loved treasure hunting almost more than Sinbad.

Third, there was Rothbart. Rothbart was a sorcerer with a special talent of shapeshifting into a monster. Sinbad had seen Rothbart's transformation, and while the oversized bat-wolf hybrid was impressive, Sinbad hardly considered it worthy of Rothbart's title "The Great Animal." _Scary as Hell_ maybe, but definitely not _great_. However, when an evil sorcerer sulks aboard your ship and asks nicely to join the team, you just don't say no. You just don't.

Fourth, there were the Vikings - Eret Son of Eret and Drago Bludvist. Eret was the younger, Drago was the older, and both hailed from Berk, a Viking island smack dab in the middle of Dragon Country. Being Vikings, they were enormous by default. Eret captured dragons, but Drago _controlled_ dragons.

Sinbad strode down the line. He passed Drago. He smelled blood. Sinbad snuffed. Drago was a maniac, with gravel in his voice and not much more in his head. But he held dominance over dragons with nothing but willpower...while screaming and whirling a big sword.

Next, there was Marina. Ah Marina.

Marina could kill with a kiss. She was poison and honey all rolled up into a sassy attitude problem. Priceless. Some things just can't be taught.

Sinbad lingered on the lovely sight. He and Marina were a perfect match, everyone agreed. He was a rouge and she was insane. Still, Sinbad could not help comparing Marina to Sarah. Marina always had an agenda, there was always a catch. But Sarah...

Sinbad smiled. He remembered Sarah Hawkins' agenda: adventure.

Further down the line there were handfuls of able bodied sailors, nameless faces to do the dirty work and die on the front line. But finally, there was Sinbad's first mate: Ruber.

Ruber was mad. Completely mad. Banished by the _real_ king of The Otherland, Ruber was brutal as he was resentful. He killed effortlessly, creatively, and indulgently, pausing only to twitch an eye or giggle before slicing a victim's throat. Sinbad realized _without a doubt_ that if ever there was a mutiny, Ruber would be the chief mutineer. That was why he elected Ruber first mate - keep your friends close and your enemies closer.

Yup. Each pirate was a gem; the best that The Otherland had to offer.

The Otherland.

The Otherland was just that. It was the ' _other land'_ besides Fantasia. The name was self-explanatory _and_ reversible (Otherland, Land of the Others), which Sinbad found delightful because it was so easy to remember. Moreover, what kind of a wimpy country calls itself _Fantasia_? _On purpose_? They could have picked any number of manlier names, like Muffin Land, Rainbow Kingdom, or Bibbity Bobbity Boo.

Sinbad smiled. The Otherland's general opinion of Fantasia was unfavorable. Otherlanders - that's what they called themselves - thought Fantasians were stuffy, condescending creeps obsessed with maintaining order. Puh. The nerve.

And if Fantasia was the responsible older brother, The Otherland was the rebellious teen. The country was a hot mess. Law and order were hung at the gallows. There were too many self-proclaimed kings to count. Children starved. Women were molested. Puppies were kicked. Banks were robbed. Brothers fought brothers. And magic infected the country like a virus.

It was no wonder the Otherlanders despised Fantasia. Fantasia was too pristine. Too perfect. Too...peaceful.

Which brought Sinbad to his original comment. What _had_ happen in Fantasia?

Sinbad looked past his crew. Hand on his goatee, he contemplated the sunset.

Several years ago, Fantasia just exploded. Sinbad remembered. It was the day the tiny northern star, nicknamed the Wishing Star, broke. Fantasia turned into an upset stomach, vomiting black magic from every pore.

It was curious. Fantasia was notorious for outlawing magic. Witches and wizards were either criminalized or stalked like puppets on strings.

Then one day, magic appeared. Rather, it attacked. And not just black magic. Black, white, and grey magic suffocated the region, and it seemed Fantasia would die.

But it did not. Suddenly as it was assaulted, Fantasia was saved. The invaders, whoever they were, had _somehow_ been stopped from taking Fantasia.

Still Fantasia had changed. Drastically. The country had shattered but was rebuilding itself into a stained glass window. Magic breathed through magical realms. Magic and non-magical beings existed harmoniously. And there were rumors of a new Fantasian king. A Fantasian king with...protectors. What did they call them? Oh. Right. _Guardians_.

Sinbad scanned the sky. He found the Wishing Star, broken into two pieces: Second Star to the Right and Second Star to the Wrong. Now, Sinbad was no wizard. But even he could see the Wishing Star was sick with black magic.

Sinbad returned to his crew. No doubt. Something _had_ happened in Fantasia. And something _continued_ to happen every quarter year below the Wishing Star. Specifically, on the first of each season.

"Gentlemen!" Sinbad announced. "Tonight we find ourselves on the brink of danger! Tonight we find ourselves on the edge of a knife! Tonight we find ourselves facing certain death! Because tonight - TONIGHT - is the night BEFORE - "

Sinbad waited. Expectantly he lifted his chin.

"Before..." Eret said, uncomfortable in the awkward silence. "...Christmas?"

"Nice try!" Sinbad said. "But not even close! NO! TONIGHT is the NIGHT before -" Sinbad raised his scimitar. "THE AUTUMNAL EQUINOX!"

"Tomorrow, on the first of autumn!" Sinbad continued, too excited to pause. "The ocean opens to Charybdis! And OH?"

Sinbad placed a hand to his ear. " _What is Charybdis_ you say? Well listen up, you old salts! Charybdis is the _monster whirlpool_! The whirlpool that opens below the Wishing Star ONLY on the first of every season! That's four times a year baby! Four times a year to explore! Four times a year to evade death!"

"You think he's too eager?" Marina muttered to Rothbart.

"Four times!" Sinbad pointed to sea. "To uncover the SUNKEN TREASURE OF CHARYBDIS!"

"Cursed." Dimitri corrected. Quickly he raised his hands. "I'm game and everything. But it's cursed."

"Dimitri is right!" Vlad said. He had a deep, resonant accent but it failed to tranquilize Sinbad.

"Cursed!?" Sinbad said. "HA - HA- HAAA-HA!"

Sinbad panted. Then, after a moment, he consented. "Yeah you're right, it probably is! What do the legends say? Undead army? Hexed pirate gold? A siren's song locked in a shell? A boogie-woogie cauldron of death? However!"

Sinbad opened his hand to the Wishing Star. "That's the point! Gentlemen, they say it's _impossible_ to conquer Charybdis! Hear that? IM-PAH-SI-BULL! Well you know what _I_ say?"

Sinbad marched down the line. "Impossi-bull shit! It's like I always say! What are my two favorite words?"

"Lost cause?" grumbled Tulio.

"Adventure awaits!" Sinbad proclaimed as Miguel cheered. "Adventure awaits! Who knows what's down in that whirlpool? A curse? A treasure? A monster? A maid? But WHO CARES?"

He ignored the raised hands.

"It's the mystery! The thrill! The adventure! Gentlemen! We don't know what happened in Fantasia! But, we _do_ know that the Fantasians went through all that trouble to put Charybdis there, and they have _no_ idea it exists!"

Sinbad seized the bulwark. He inhaled the ocean air. "Charybdis is ours, Gentlemen! All ours! SO!"

Sinbad stabbed his scimitar. "Let's go get its secrets! Come on! Who's ready to ROCK AND ROLL!?"

The stars ran for cover as the pirates screamed. Victoriously, Sinbad grabbed the helm.

"Ah!" The ship's wheel lagged as Sinbad unclenched his left hand. In his excitement he'd forgotten; the red scar always stung when he gripped too tight.

"Captain." Ruber's shadow crossed Sinbad's stinging palm. "Captain. What are the whirlpool's coordinates?"

Sinbad replaced his hand at the helm.

"You know, Ruber. Same as the last five years we've tried. Second star to the right...until you hear the siren's song. The singing. That beautiful singing. And on the stroke of midnight on September twenty first..."

Scar burning, Sinbad steered for the Wishing Star.

"...the whirlpool opens its jaws."

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 **sutlal's notes**

 **(1) Reason for the early post = we WILL switch to the birthday girl on the original deadline (Sept 21)**

 **(2) PRESENT/CONTEST? = I wanted to THANK YOU all for waiting. So I made a soundtrack.** **Taking Fantasia Soundtrack on my YouTube page (** sultal wf **) under the title** TAKING FANTASIA SOUNDTRACK (Disney Fanfiction by sultal) **Maybe (big MAYBE) we can have a contest, and the winners could get a mixed CD of the soundtrack, but I still need to work out the deets! Let me know if this is a good idea. Regardless - hope you like it! (My favorite tracks = 2, 13, 14, 17).**

 **(3) Fan Art = DisneyGirl10 surprised me with FANTASTIC fanart for Taking Fantasia and I wanted to give her a shout out! Check out the art at her tumblr page at the account name:** **disneygirl10universe. Thanks girl!**

 **(4) The cover: I used art made by the magnificent Deviant Art artists Rapunzel-Magic-Frost (peter and wendy) and iesnoth (jim and ariel). Go check them out. WELL worth your time.**

 **(5) keep writing.**


	2. Chapter 2: Yes, The Past Can Hurt

**Chapter 2: Yes, The Past Can Hurt**

Her nightmare never changed.

 _It was the day they took Fantasia. She was in bed, levitating over the battlefield. The Wishing Star was overhead, broken in two. The battle was beneath her, far below._

 _For a while she remained in bed, head on the pillow, eyes on the Wishing Star, and ears on the battle. It was a lucid dream. As she listened, she remembered. The Jolly Roger crashed. The villains attacked. The students defended. Jim fought. Peter flew. Arthur pulled the Sword from the Stone. The Black Cauldron shattered. And Ariel trapped the villains in a monster whirlpool._

 _When she heard the whirlpool, she knew victory was near. That was the way it happened. The whirlpool swallowed every villain, shadow, and Black Cauldron fragment._

 _So it was safe to look._

 _She lifted the blankets. Pushed off the pillow. Grasped the mattress. And she looked under the bed._

 _The whirlpool churned below. Its size made her dizzy. Its power vibrated through the mattress and inside her throat. Wind ripped over her back as the whirlpool sucked into a black hole, the vortex spinning down, down, down..._

 _...up?_

 _Confused she leaned off the bed, watching the water. The whirlpool groaned. Then it froze. For a moment, everything was still._

 _Then the whirlpool reversed direction. It turned up. It revolved faster and faster, climbing the sky, filling the air, spitting arms, legs, monsters, villains under her mattress, into the bedposts, grabbing the blankets, twisting the sheets, seizing her nightdress, trying to pull her out of bed –_

"STOP!"

Wendy Darling woke up when she hit the floor.

For a moment she lay, gasping at the ceiling. Her senses roared, trying to identify reality from the fantasy.

"It...was a dream."

Wendy covered her mouth. It stopped her heart from jumping out. Breathing through her fingers she looked under the bed.

There was nothing there, and certainly no monsters. Just Peter Pan's shadow dozing on an old wicker sewing basket.

Slowly Wendy lowered her hand.

"It was just a dream."

But it was more than just a dream. It was her past, recurring every night with the same twisted ending. It was a disturbing what-if scenario, and Wendy felt sick imagining the possible turn of events.

What if Arthur had not destroyed the Black Cauldron – the portal between Fantasia and the Wishing Star – with Excalibur, his magical sword? What if Ariel's whirlpool _had_ reversed directions? What if Captain Hook, Maleficent, the villains, Lana, and the rest of Ariel's wicked mermaid cousins escaped? What if the shadows got out? What if Wendy, Peter, Jim, Ariel and their classmates had failed to take Fantasia?

Wendy stared at the ceiling. Although she conceived hundreds of unhappy endings, she could not help but think of a small, _very_ unlikely happy one.

 _If they lost, if the villains won...then she would not be here. She would not be trapped in the Underworld, away from Ariel Triton, away from Jim Hawkins, away from Peter Pan._

 _She would not be alone._

"That's horrid." Rising, Wendy crossed the room. Quietly, so not to wake Peter's shadow, she climbed the spiral staircase. The stairs were skeletal and difficult to navigate in the dim, golden light. "Shame on you Wendy Darling."

The stairs snaked to a second loft. Immediately Wendy calmed. This was her sanctuary. Extending her neck, she breathed in the room. It wasn't much, but it was hers.

Pipes and gears littered the ceiling, which Wendy had improved by stringing regimented rows of Christmas lights. A chandelier hung from the center like a sprocket star burst.

To the left there was a swooping Victorian desk. To the right there was a flat workbench and a giant jar of pixie dust. And straight ahead was a window. A massive rectangular widow overlooking the Underworld.

Wendy loved her room. It was open, illuminated, and simple. With one head shake she could clear all clutter, forcing her brain to accept the clarity of the room.

But not tonight. Tonight Wendy's thoughts were snarled in her nightmare.

Wendy hugged her shoulders. Settling on the window seat and resting her forehead on the pane, she gazed across Fantasia's Underworld. Rather, _her_ Underworld.

Yes, the Underworld was _hers_. Because Wendy Darling was a guardian; a guardian of the Underworld.

There were four guardians, each selected by the Wishing Star to protect the four magical realms of Fantasia: Outerworld, Skyworld, Seaworld, and Underworld. The guardians protected and nourished their magical realm while coexisting with the non-magical king on land. The relationship was designed to be symbiotic. The vitality of each realm affected the others. And if the magical and non-magical components were balanced, all of Fantasia flourished – like the cogs in a clock.

Thus far, everything seemed beautifully copacetic. But there was a catch. A big catch.

The four guardians could not leave their realm. Unless they were called by the Fantasian king, they were trapped. Forever.

"And forever..." Wendy traced the distant outline of Big B.E.N, the pixie dust clock tower. "...is an awfully long time."

Haunted still by her nightmare, Wendy retraced the events precipitating her guardianship. What an adventure. Fifteen years old, she had been thrown into Fantasia's future with her best friend Jim Hawkins. Jim was a bitter boy but trusted Wendy implicitly, and she him. They had bonded as children when Wendy lost her mother and Jim lost his father. Jim's father had run away. Wendy's mother had been murdered by Captain Hook.

Wendy rubbed her chest. The ache of her mother's death never quite went away. Captain Hook had killed her mother, and later her father, after mistaking Wendy for the Chosen One destined to break the Wishing Star and release the shadows inside.

Wendy almost smiled. _Goodness, but it was a confusing story._ Confusing as the day Headmaster Mickey decided that the students of _Fantasia School for the Magically Skewed_ should hear the Wishing Star Prophecy and pick from the Magic Bag of Tricks. But, simplified, the Wishing Star Prophecy predicted that the Wishing Star would break and release demon shadows unto Fantasia.

However, the Prophecy also offered hope that Fantasia could be saved via a sequence of events: the children would fight evil, a king would pull a sword from a stone, and four guardians would rise to protect Fantasia.

And it happened. It all happened while Wendy and Jim were in high school of all things! She and her classmates received gifts from the Wishing Star through an old sorcerer's hat called The Magic Bag of Tricks. The gifts imparted a magical item or magical ability to help the students protect Fantasia.

Wendy received a magical needle, thimble, and thread which allowed her to manipulate shadows. Jim received a magical orb with coordinates to the Wishing Star. And then there were Ariel Triton and Peter Pan. Ariel received a magical trident. Peter received the ability to fly.

Ariel and Peter.

This time, Wendy smiled.

She'd never been terribly social with Ariel or Peter as a student. Shy of Peter and intimidated by Ariel and her mermaid cousins, Wendy had one friend: Jim. It worked because Jim also had one friend: Wendy. They were a great team, but when Ariel and Peter slammed into their lives...

"Poor Jim." Wendy shook her head. "How Peter made him mad."

 _Mad_ was an understatement. Jim _loathed_ Peter. Even without meeting him, Jim wanted to pound Peter to a pulp. It was touching: Peter had been harassing Wendy in a perverted form of flirtation. Wendy, having secretly loved Peter for years prior, did not know how to handle Peter's advances.

But Jim did: he beat Peter up. Then Peter beat Jim up. Then Jim beat Peter up. Then Peter beat Jim up. The cycle went on, and on, and on...

But as much as Jim hated Peter, he loved Ariel. Wendy couldn't blame him. Ariel was beautiful inside and out. Of mermaid lineage, Ariel was the only girl in her family not to turn into a mermaid when she picked from the Magic Bag of Tricks. Water off her back, Ariel gravitated away from her condescending cousins and befriended Wendy. Wendy resisted at first. But when Ariel sparkled into her life, she became the sister Wendy always wanted.

And the girlfriend Jim never had.

Wendy's smile widened.

It was _adorable_. She'd never seen Jim so bewildered. It was as if Ariel was the comet that smashed open his iron shell, and Jim had no idea what to do. He could only be captivated.

Wendy was a little envious. Jim and Ariel connected effortlessly. Even when Jim and Ariel feigned indifference, Wendy could practically see the fireworks sparking between them. Their connection was rare: it was love at first sight.

Not _quite_ like her and Peter.

Wendy shifted. Her connection with Peter was...volatile. Both were very passionate for the other, but abysmal at expressing it. Wendy was a shrinking violet and Peter was a two headed bull. And Jim's aggressions, while well intent, did not help the mix.

But Peter changed. He donned a knight's silver armor for Wendy. And after Fantasia was saved, Peter did the unthinkable.

He proposed.

And Wendy accepted. She had to. She loved him.

Wendy breathed.

No one knew. And no one would ever. Because when King Arthur, Fantasia's Chosen One, reopened the magical realms, the Wishing Star selected four guardians:

Ariel Triton, guardian of the Seaworld. Jim Hawkins, guardian of the Outerworld. Peter Pan, guardian of the Skyworld. And Wendy Darling, guardian of the Underworld.

" _Four seasons turn, all are cursed_." Wendy whispered, reciting the Wishing Star Prophesy. " _Find the one born on the first_."

Wendy sighed. Although the last stanza referred to King Arthur, who was born on the first of the year, the four seasons represented the guardians. Jim was born on the first of winter, Peter the first of spring, Ariel the first of summer, and Wendy the first of autumn.

Four friends, blessed with power, cursed in love.

Silently, Wendy reprimanded herself. She shouldn't complain. After all, she had worked hard and was proud of the Underworld's transformation.

Wendy laughed gently. She remembered her first day as guardian. She'd had _no idea_ what she was doing. _None_! The Underworld was a mess. Metal scrap heaped the cavern walls. Dragons were everywhere. And shadows were eating the city alive.

But Wendy Darling had an advantage. She was a shadow worker. It was her gift from the Wishing Star.

Wendy remembered what Headmaster Mickey had taught her. Shadows were extensions of souls, commonly called the inner demon. When attached to a body, shadows were harmless reminders that mankind is inherently evil. Using reverse psychology, the owner would see his shadow, consider his options, and strive to be good.

But when shadows were detached...

Wendy clasped her hands. As a shadow worker, she could unstitch shadows from their owners using her needle and thread. She'd accidentally detached Peter's shadow, and it had attacked her. Like all shadows, it scalped her brain for the darkest memories. It was very similar to having a nightmare.

For individuals _with_ their shadow, _another_ shadow can only cause a nightmare. But for individuals _without_ their shadow, like Peter, _another_ shadow can do much worse: it can possess.

Wendy learned to control shadows. Her silver thimble, when donned, allowed her to safely manipulate a shadow. Wendy weaned from the thimble as her skill improved, and as she realized that the strongest counter for an unhappy memory...was a happy thought. And her happy thought, as Peter so humbly observed, was Peter Pan himself.

Wendy cast a downward glance. A level below, Peter's shadow rest beneath her bed. Peter had given her his shadow, as a form of remembrance. In exchange, Wendy had given Peter her thimble. They were lovely parting gifts, and Peter's shadow was marvelous company. But Wendy still feared for Peter without his soul...and without her to protect him.

Wendy stood. Silently she stared at her reflection.

"I miss him." she finally said. " _So_ _much_."

Her reflection mouthed the words back to her. It was not comforting. Somehow, it made Wendy hurt more.

She'd written to Peter. Hundreds of times. But Peter never replied. Not once. Tinkerbell – one of the liaisons between the Underworld and Fantasia – said Peter just didn't care.

Wendy bit her lip. She didn't believe Tinkerbell at first. They'd never been friends, not even friendly. But with each unanswered letter, she began to wonder. Peter was unbounded as the wind, he always had been. He was also social as a butterfly. And even Wendy, introverted as she was, was tormented by loneliness. _How could she possibly expect Peter..._

"Don't." Wendy tried to stop the thought. But it itched the back of her brain until it was a burn.

 _How could she possibly expect Peter to still want her?_

Wendy focused on her reflection. She had changed. Very much. Wendy doubted Peter would recognize her. _She_ hardly recognized her.

The only thing that hadn't changed was the blue ribbon in her hair.

She was taller and her hair was slightly longer. Her curls were flatter and sparkly due to pixie dust exposure. In public, Wendy tucked her hair under a hat. It was a bowler hat complete with blue-lens goggles. Both fit a little too big.

Wendy glanced to the bowler, sitting in its usual place. The hat was also decorated with a golden circlet. The circlet was thin, heart shaped, and interlaced with tiny amethyst flowers. Wendy remembered when she received it: it was the circlet of the Underworld. Each guardian had one.

Wendy returned to the window. The rest of her wardrobe reflected the Underworld culture. Because the Underworld was constructed of metal and powered by pixie dust, it closely resembled steampunk fashion. The pixies, including Tinkerbell, modified the word into _pixiepunk_ and it stuck. Actually it was something of a fad, and the Underworld residents were very proud to make it their identity.

Wendy accepted the cultural craze as a blessing. And, as Underworld guardian, she dressed the part.

Her outfit was standard _pixiepunk_ : A grungy Victorian skirt, bunched with ribbon to hide the places where dragons set her dress on fire. A sky blue corset that Wendy loved, oddly enough, because it gave the illusion of curves for the first time in her life. Small puffed sleeves, black stockings, high-buttoned boots, and an elegance of leather-metal accessories, including a utility belt and a hand guard.

Wendy looked down. The hand guard was her favorite. She always wore it. Jim had built it to store her needle and thread. And, he had said, to use as a weapon.

Jim's voice in her head, Wendy flexed her wrist. A pulley system activated and the needle extracted. Arching her arm through the air, Wendy stabbed an invisible enemy with the needle and detached his shadow.

Wendy paused. Then, lowering her arm, she went to her workbench. She never had to use Jim's weapon, thank goodness. She had other jobs. _Many_ jobs.

"Training the dragons..." Wendy murmured, checking boxes in her head. "...exploring new tunnels with the seven dwarves, navigating with B.E.N, fixing Big B.E.N, rationing the pixie dust, organizing the pixies, and..."

Wendy opened the pixie dust jar. Carefully, she scooped a teacup of dust.

"...catching shadows." she whispered, pouring pixie dust into a _Ziploc_ bag. "And turning nightmares into dreams."

The pixie dust glittered. Wendy zipped the bag. Then, fishing a corkscrew onto her utility belt, Wendy turned to the window.

Peter's shadow was sitting on the sill. It did not look pleased.

"Hello." Wendy said. "I was just going out."

The shadow _hmphed_. _Still not pleased._

Wendy displayed the _Ziploc_. Pixie dust rolled over her fingers. "To catch nightmares. Only a few."

The shadow drummed its fingers. Then, exaggeratedly, it pointed at Wendy and laid both hands under its head.

Wendy understood the sign. "I couldn't sleep."

The shadow scratched its head. It circled its hand. Twice.

"Yes." Wendy answered. "Again."

Huffily, the shadow threw its hands. _Why?_

"Because..." Wendy fingered the Ziploc. She debated before telling the truth. "...I had that dream. Again."

The shadow started to move. Then it stopped. Almost apologetically, it twirled a finger.

"Yes." Wendy sighed. She tried not to remember. "The whirlpool."

The shadow scratched behind its pointed ear, thinking. Wendy smiled. That was one of Peter's mannerisms.

"Everything is fine." She insisted. Stepping around the shadow, she unfastened the window. "But I think a little fresh air would help."

The shadow wagged its head sideways in a _ha ha ha_ motion. The Underworld was underground; there was no such thing as fresh air.

"Regardless." Wendy balanced on the sill. The city sparkled miles beneath her. "This always helps. I'll be right – "

The shadow tugged her skirt.

"Yes?"

It pointed down. Then trickling fingers over its head, the shadow suddenly smacked it's hands together. _Splat._

Wendy smiled. "I won't fall. I have pixie dust."

The shadow repeated the whirlpool twirling motion, indicating her dream. Then it pointed at its head.

"Don't worry." Wendy said. She sprinkled pixie dust over her shoulders. It felt wonderful. Like warm snowflakes. "I'll think of a happy thought."

Skeptically, the shadow crossed its arms. Then swooping behind, it took her waist.

Wendy felt her worst memories stir at the shadows touch. Concentrating, she suppressed them with a happy thought. _Peter's shadow cared for her. That was sweet._

She half turned. "Would you like to come?"

The shadow lifted in response. _Yes. I'll carry you._

Wendy released the sill.

"Then..." she said, floating into the air. "...lead the way, Sir."

* * *

 **sultal's note: split this chapter into 2 parts - the next chpt should come later today!**


	3. Chapter 3: A Very Unhappy Birthday

**sultal's note: I believe in showcasing creativity. Starting with this chapter, I will be posting poems written by one of my wattpad readers ( Big4girl). In the comments, she started writing mini poems summarizing my chapters, using various character POVs. They are awesome, don't know how she busts them out! So I had to reward her creativity and share it with fanfiction readers. I will post Big4girl's poems as subtexts, following the chapters, starting now.**

* * *

 **Chapter 3: A Very Unhappy Birthday**

Wendy let the shadow lead. Being Peter Pan's spiritual essence, it loved taking charge. And Wendy did not mind; she hadn't slept well since the nightmares started. Escorted by Peter's shadow, she could relax.

And she could sightsee.

Wendy looked down. The Underworld was not her home. But it was her handiwork. And it was impressive.

Wendy allowed herself a moment of uncharacteristic vanity. She'd made the Underworld beautiful. It was the one advantage of her loneliness – Wendy obsessed herself with work, which was good because there was a lot of work to be done.

 _A lot_ of work. And it started with clean up. Wendy was a fundamentalist (and a little clueless) so she began with the basics: broom and dustpan.

At first it was just her and B.E.N, a copper robot charged with bio-electronically-navigating the Underworld. B.E.N's brother, Big B.E.N, was an enormous clock tower powered by pixie dust. Wendy's next project was feeding Big B.E.N's energy through the Underworld.

It was a large order. She needed help. And help came. Wendy hired the seven dwarves to rebuild the cities. Yes cit _ies_ – there were miles of them. Then, swallowing her pride, Wendy invited Tinkerbell and her pixie relatives to engineer the pixie dust.

News spread, and technically savvy Fantasians flocked to the Underworld: Milo Thatch, Audrey Ramirez, Belle's father Maurice, Quasimodo, Ludwig Von Drake, an Italian demolitions expert named Vinny Santorini and his French geologist partner named Mole. Adventurers followed, just to explore: John Smith, Eric, Pocahontas, and Jane Porter. Traffic became so busy, she hired a white rabbit to direct Fantasian tourists. Wendy even heard rumors that her old professors, Master Cogsworth and Dr. Doppler visited the Underworld by order of the king.

But Wendy never saw them. It was always after the fact she heard a friend had passed through. Somehow, something always came up.

Like the dragons.

The Underworld was chalk full of dragons, and Wendy quickly learned why. Dragons liked gold. And since pixie dust was pure gold, the dragons were there to stay. They had no intention of leaving the Underworld; so Wendy ensured the dragons were well mannered.

It was a chore and a half, and still a daily pursuit. Dragons were tough. But nothing – _nothing_ – compared to the shadows.

The shadows were everywhere. And they were out of control. According to Headmaster Mickey, the previous Underworld guardian – a grey magic sorcerer named Yen Sid –experimented with shadows. When Yen Sid passed, the shadows turned wild.

Wendy exhausted herself chasing, catching, and taming shadows. It was difficult without her thimble. At times, it was painful. After all, she was still a novice shadow worker, and once she caught them, Wendy was unsure what to _do_ with the shadows.

Initially, Wendy used Peter's shadow. Like a guard dog, Peter's shadow corralled the wild ones. However, the system failed as the number of shadows grew.

That was when Wendy discovered the applications of pixie dust. It happened quite by accident. Wendy had been chasing a particularly nasty shadow when it rounded in full attack. Surprised, Wendy had dropped her pixie dust (it was faster to fly after shadows) and blocked with her needle. As pixie dust fluffed onto the shadow, the needle hit and the thread stuck. As Wendy pulled back, she sewed pixie dust onto the shadow. And, miraculously, the shadow behaved.

Wendy ran with it. She had no idea why it worked, but suspected the pixie dust neutralized the shadow. It made sense: pixie dust operated via happy thoughts, and happy thoughts helped Wendy control shadows without her thimble. Either way, _it worked_.

And it gave Wendy an idea.

When the Underworld started clicking at a productive beat, Wendy found herself with creative freedoms. She began to experiment. Specifically, she began to experiment with nightmares.

Shadows caused nightmares so Wendy reasoned that pixie dust could stop them. Since she was unable to manipulate her own shadow, Wendy could not experiment on her own nightmares.

But she could experiment on others.

So she did.

And she was very, _very_ successful.

"There." Wendy kicked, boosting them higher. "Let's try there."

The shadow veered. Twirling through a cloud of shadows (all stitched with pixie dust), it lifted Wendy to the Underworld ceiling.

"I think..." Wendy inspected. "I heard one."

She probed the rock. It wasn't cold, so they weren't under the ocean.

She knocked. The sound echoed. They were under a house.

She pressed an ear to the ceiling. A child was crying. Wendy smiled. _Jackpot._ They found a nightmare.

"Ready to save the day?" Wendy asked. Tilting against the shadow, she ground her corkscrew into the rock. "Or, rather...save the night?"

The shadow bobbed, using total body language for _yes_. Waiting impatiently for the corkscrew to wind, it tickled Wendy to hurry up.

"All right! All right!" Wendy cranked the corkscrew. "Almost there!"

The corkscrew plunged up into air. Unplugging it, Wendy blew to clear the hole. Dust bunnies fell onto her nose. _Splendid._ They were under a bed. Wendy listened. She could hear the child whimpering in her sleep.

"You know what to do." Wendy unfolded the shadow's hands. Paddling to stay afloat, she nodded at the hole. "Go get the nightmare."

The shadow saluted. Then, like black smoke, it whisked through the hole.

Wendy waited.

Isolating a nightmare was a delicate task. Without Peter's shadow, Wendy could only stop a nightmare by puffing pixie dust under a child's bed. The pixie dust would diffuse, and usually catalyze a happy thought to end the nightmare.

But _with_ Peter's shadow, the nightmare could be removed from the child's head. The shadow would bring it to Wendy, she would sew on pixie dust, and suddenly the nightmare was mended! Sometimes it turned into a dream. But always with pixie dust, the nightmare never reoccurred.

Wendy rubbed her arm. She felt her scars, the ones Captain Hook carved into her skin. The scars, brilliant white, spelled SHADOW WORKER.

Wendy looked down. Then, she rotated her forearm, hiding the scars. Before, she'd regretted being a shadow worker. Since then, she'd learned to love her work. But still...

Wendy gazed at the hole. Moonlight poured through, and she thought of Jim flying his solar surfer through outer space. She had no doubt Jim was doing marvelously; taking everything in stride and unnoticing that he was rattling the stars.

It was a strange coincidence. Jim was her adopted brother. And her best friend. But...he was the farthest away.

Wendy loved Ariel and Peter. But she missed Jim the most.

 _Poof._ Peter's shadow dropped through the hole. It was holding a snarling nightmare.

"Goodness." Wendy took the nightmare. It tried to bite. "Quite a nasty one. It must be a dreadful dream."

Peter's shadow clawed its fingers. It hissed at the nightmare.

"Behave..." Wendy muttered. She frowned. The nightmare was an odd consistency, courser than shadows and almost like wet sand. It was pitch black and so cold it burned.

She turned her hip. "Shadow? The Ziploc on my belt. Would you open the pixie dust?"

The shadow complied. The nightmare growled at the golden light.

"Thank you." Wendy readied her needle and thread.

"All right..." She inhaled. She held the nightmare taut. "One...two...three –"

Snap. Wendy dunked the nightmare into the pixie dust. Then, motions fluid as water, she twisted the nightmare into a helix, thread it through her needle –

"Stitch...double stitch...loop..." Wendy bit the string. Proudly, she displayed the sparkling nightmare. It cuddled in her palm, completely subdued.

Peter's shadow rolled its eyes. _Stupid nightmare._

Wendy smiled.

"All better." she said, turning back to the hole. "Now Shadow. Quietly, put it back in the child's—oh."

Wendy dipped, almost falling in surprise.

Below the hole, looking _extremely_ cross, was a little golden man.

"Oh." Wendy stammered again. "Um..."

She looked at Peter's shadow. The shadow shrugged.

"Um...hello?" Wendy knelt. The shadow peeked over her shoulder. "Who are you?"

The little man did not answer. His golden-brown eyes flickered resentfully to the nightmare in Wendy's hands.

Wendy was intrigued. Ignoring Peter's shadow and forgoing politeness, she leaned closer.

The little man was squat of stature and face. His limbs were tiny, but his hair was styled into five large points like a clown's. He wore a golden night robe and every part of him glittered. Wendy peered. _Why, the little man was made entirely of pixie dust!_

"Um." Wendy said. "My name is Wendy. I am the guardian of this place. The Underworld."

The little man raised a cynical brow. _Oh_ _really?_

He gave Wendy a long look, clearly sizing her up.

Wendy wished the little man would speak.

"Are you lost?" she asked, trying to be helpful. "Because there are several exits to land. The White Rabbit's hole. Tony's Restaurant. Edna's Mode's. The Magic Oven – "

The little man reared back. Accusingly, he jabbed a finger at Wendy.

Peter's shadow leapt. It swatted viciously at the little man.

"Wait! Shadow!" Wendy yanked. "Shadow don't – oh! Goodness!"

Wendy stumbled backwards (which was awkward in midair). As Peter's shadow lunged, the little man punched it right in the nose. Golden sand bled into the shadow. Yapping like a puppy, the shadow darted behind Wendy.

Wendy was indignant. "Shadow! Behave! And you – little man! Don't hurt a poor shadow!"

The little man kissed his fist. Disgruntled, Peter's shadow rubbed its nose.

Wendy held the shadow's head protectively. Motherly instincts on fire, she glared at the little man.

"Who _do_ you think you are?"

The little man blinked. He looked rather surprised that Wendy did not know. Placidly, he pointed over his head. Golden sand suddenly materialized like a cartoon think-bubble. Wendy gaped as the sand morphed into an old fashion night cap.

Clearly this was how the little man communicated. Charades.

"Is...your name...sleep?"

The little man waggled his wrist. _Close. No cigar_.

Then he held up two fingers.

"Two words?" Wendy guessed.

He nodded. He lifted a finger.

"First word." Wendy said.

A sandcastle appeared over the little man's head.

"Sandcastle?"

Headshake. _No._

"Castle?"

Headshake. _No._

"Sand?"

Nod. And a smile. _Yes!_

Wendy smiled back. "Second word?"

The little man – apparently _Mr. Sand Something_ – conjured an image of two people. A boy and a girl.

"Children? Child?"

Headshake. _No._ The girl vanished. The boy grew taller.

"Boy? No? Um..." Wendy suddenly thought of Peter. Before he was a silly little boy. Perhaps now, after all these years, he had grown into a...

Wendy swallowed. "Man?"

The little man clapped. _Bingo!_

"Sandman..." Wendy murmured. Then eyes dawning, she stared at the little golden man. "You're...the Sandman? The guardian...of dreams?"

Sandman bowed. _Yup! Guilty as charged!_

Wendy was startled.

"Please to meet you." she spluttered. Peter's shadow grumbled.

"If you're the Sandman..." Wendy asked, giving Peter's shadow a warning look. "...then why are you in the Underworld?"

Sandman pointed at Wendy's nightmare.

"Oh."

Guiltily, Wendy looked. _Of course._ Nightmares were _Sandman's_ specialty. Not hers.

"I'm sorry." Wendy offered the nightmare. "Terribly sorry. I did not mean to intrude. Had I known you were in the bedroom, I never would have interfered. I didn't even consider, well I didn't even suppose that you - "

Sandman held up a hand. Interestingly, he took the nightmare. For a moment he studied. Then, looking up at Wendy, a question mark appeared over his head.

"I...invented it." Wendy said. She felt very trivial explaining her technique to the master of dreams. "It's pixie dust. Pixie dust can generate happy thoughts. And if I sew it on..."

Wendy produced her needle and thread. "...then the nightmare goes away. Or, at least I think it does. I know it must sound awfully silly – "

Insistently, Sandman shook his head. He flashed an exclamation point.

"Truly?" Wendy smiled. "You think it's a good idea?"

Sandman shrugged. _Why not. But..._

Secretively, he gestured Wendy near. Then, with a wink, he tapped the nightmare with a finger.

Wendy gasped. The nightmare blossomed into a golden flower. Sandman released, and the flower spun like a helicopter around Wendy's head before twirling up the hole and into the child's bedroom.

Wendy beamed. "Was that a dream?"

Sandman nodded.

"You changed the nightmare into a dream? Completely?"

Again Sandman nodded.

Wendy was delighted. She turned to Peter's shadow. "How lovely! Shadow! Did you see that?"

Sulkily the shadow shrugged. _Big deal._

Wendy beseeched Sandman. "Can you show me? Teach me more?"

Sandman grinned. Taking Wendy's hand, he zoomed for the nearest exit – a conduit opening directly into _Fantasia School for the Magically Skewed_ , via a magic oven.

"Oh. Wait." Wendy sagged. "I can't."

Sandman turned. A question mark appeared over his head.

"Because..." Wendy's insides ached. "...I can't. I have to stay here. In the Underworld. Forever."

Slowly she started to sink. Recognizing the unhappy thought, Peter's shadow took her waist.

"Until..." Wendy said. "...until King Arthur calls."

Sandman gazed. He looked pitying at Wendy.

"It's all right." Wendy forced a smile. "You must be terribly busy. And I had best go home. After all, long day tomorrow. Dragons, shadows, dwarves and such. But...it was _lovely_ meeting you Sandman."

Sandman touched his heart. Then, in a glimmer of gold, he vanished.

Dismally, Wendy returned to her room.

"Thank you Shadow." she said. "Thank you. Now your little nose. Did Sandman – "

Wendy stopped. Across the Underworld a bell tolled. Big B.E.N was ringing. The clock had struck twelve.

"Midnight." Wendy said. Mystified, she strode to the window.

And suddenly she remembered.

"It's the Autumnal Equinox. It's September twenty first." Wendy stared at the golden clock. "Today is my birthday. I'm...twenty one."

The clock chimed. And with each toll, Wendy thought of Ariel, Peter, and Jim. She was the youngest of the guardians. But until Jim's birthday in three months, they were all twenty one years old. All twenty one on the twenty first.

Wendy gripped her shoulders.

"Six years." she whispered into the fading bells. "We've been apart for six years."

The shadow tapped her arm. Wendy turned. "Y-"

Wendy's mouth dropped. The shadow was holding a bouquet. Orange lilies, white forget-met-nots, and violets just like the amethysts on her circlet.

"Are those – _for me_?"

The shadow swelled with pride. Wendy could almost hear Peter's crow: _Oh the cleverness of me!_

"I..." Wendy brushed the petals as if they were pure gold. "I...I..."

She _loved_ flowers. There were no plants in the Underworld – the climate was inhospitable – and Wendy's attempt to grow flowers with pixie dust light failed.

Wendy blinked away tears. It was the most _wonderful_ birthday present. She could not wish for anything more.

"Oh Shadow!"

Wendy seized. The shadow, a little surprised but very pleased, hugged her back.

A little too tightly.

"Ohh – ouch!"

A painful memory flashed through Wendy's head. It was her worst memory: her mother's death.

The shadow, realizing its mistake, quickly withdrew. Contritely, it wrung its hands.

"No, no. I'm all right. It was my fault." Wendy breathed. The memory faded.

But, it gave Wendy an idea. A dangerous idea.

"Shadow? I love the flowers. I love them. But...might I ask for something else? As well? For my birthday?"

Peter's shadow perked. _Wendy never asked for favors!_ Eager to redeem itself, the shadow danced, waiting for Wendy's request.

Wendy clutched the bouquet.

"I want...memories. Of Ariel. Of Jim. Of Peter."

The shadow froze.

Then, it shook its head. _No._

Wendy was desperate. "Shadow. Shadow, please! I don't care if they're bad – "

The shadow slashed a hand between them. _No!_

"Shadow!" Wendy ran, blocking the stairwell. "Shadow! I know you can only bring bad memories. I know it will hurt but – "

 _No!_

"—but – "

 _No!_

"—but – "

 _NO!_

"But this hurts more!" Wendy cried. "It hurts more to be alone!"

The shadow lowered. Grimly, it stared.

"Please." Wendy begged. "Please. I just want to see them. I just want to see...him. Again."

She stepped forward. " _Please_."

Peter's shadow gazed.

Then, it attacked. And it gave Wendy the nightmares that she wished for her birthday.

Memories screamed through Wendy's head, playing in broken sequence like a scratched horror movie. Each memory grabbed her like a shark and ripped her with emotion.

But Wendy could see. She could hear. She could feel.

She could relive each memory. It hurt. But it hurt with the friends she had not seen in six years.

 _Jim, a little boy, holding Wendy against his broken solar surfer as they dropped into the icy sea._

 _Peter in Tony's Restaurant, laughing with Lana, mocking Wendy's stories._

 _Ariel in the War Games, holding Wendy at trident point, demanding Jim's name._

 _Peter shrieking as Wendy ripped away his shadow._

 _Ariel in school, refusing to speak with Jim._

 _Jim, livid to discover Wendy's feelings for Peter._

 _Peter, calling Jim a traitor._

 _Ariel losing her voice._

 _Jim trapped in blackmail, holding a gun to Wendy's head._

 _Peter, Jim, Ariel, Wendy, circlets on their heads..._

 _Peter, Jim, Ariel, Wendy, leaving Fantasia forever..._

 _Peter on bended knee..._

 _Peter proposing..._

 _Peter never answering..._

 _Peter not caring..._

 _Peter. Gone forever._

Wendy collapsed. The flowers rolled from her hands.

Peter's shadow watched Wendy cry. Because if it touched her, she would surely nightmare...

..again.

* * *

 **Big4girl Poem Chapter 3:**

 _ **They've told me that dreams come true but they've forgotten that nightmares are dreams too.**_


	4. Chapter 4: Peter and Jack

**sultal's note: request for guardian outfits received and posted to DA. see below.**

* * *

 **Chapter 4: Peter and Jack**

There were three reasons people could not see the Skyworld.

One, gravity was greedy and no one could fly.

Two, when one looked up, they were actually looking at the Skyworld's underside. Fantasia's ceiling, was the Skyworld's floor.

Three, the Skyworld was colossal. Huge. Unfathomable to the human eye.

But it was still too small for Peter Pan.

"Kay, Rat Tail."

Peter crouched on the peak of a cumulonimbus cloud. It was his favorite type of cloud; gigantic, dense, with bellies full of lightning. Peter was so high, all he had to do was tip his nose to touch the boundary between the Skyworld and Outerworld.

Peter slid a finger across the invisible barrier. He smiled at the Outerworld, the realm protected by Jim Hawkins. The realm Peter was forbidden to enter.

Technically.

"Tonight's the night." Peter flicked the barrier. "Tonight I'm going to the Wishing Star, Rat Tail. Like it or not."

Grinning like a fool, he reclined against the cloud. Waiting.

"Bring it on."

Peter Pan did not believe in boundaries. Were he to define it, the definition would go something along the lines of, ' _Boundaries: weird things that don't apply to me_.'

Most people found this a frustrating conviction, but as guardian of the Skyworld it served Peter well.

The Skyworld was the most boundless of all the magical realms. The Underworld was enclosed underground, the Seaworld was confined by continental shelves, and the Outerworld was outlined by constellations.

But the Skyworld was unbounded. Air mixed arbitrarily into ocean and space. Up could turn down, down could flip up. Clouds and rainbows formed castles and streets that continuously metamorphosized, changing the shape of the kingdom. Weather was cruel or kind, wind pushed or pulled, and no day was ever the same.

Peter thrived in the ambiguity. Flexible as he was quick-witted, Peter learned the Skyworld's secrets. The indefinite nature of the Skyworld excited him, challenged him, and kept him entertained.

Once he mastered the Skyworld, Peter sought companionship. He charted wind-routes with an armada of feathered friends, Zazu, Dumbo, Aladdin's Genie, the Wright Brothers Orville and Wilbur Albatross, and Big Mama the Owl.

He put pegasi in the skies with the help of three fairies Fauna, Flora, and Merriweather.

Partnering with Fantasian's Indians, he learned to paint with the colors of the wind. He even learned to warp the colors as he flew - making it look like he was flying with wings.

Peter even collaborated with the Seaworld and the Underworld. Via liaisons (a seagull named Scuttle for the Seaworld, and Tinkerbell for the Underworld), he filled the Skyworld with pixies and flying whales.

There had even been plans to include dragons, but according to Tinkerbell, the dragons were perfectly satisfied to stay underground. That disappointed Peter - dragons would have been cool. Er - hot. Whatever.

There was only one realm not interacting with Peter Pan.

Peter unsheathed his dagger. He tossed the golden hilt.

The Outerworld. The realm of Rat Tail boy - Jim Hawkins.

Peter caught the dagger. Hand behind his head poked imaginary holes into the stars.

It _would_ be like Jim to ignore the Skyworld. True, Peter had never met a liaison that could pass between space and sky. But if there was, Peter knew Jim would refuse to interact with the Skyworld just the same.

Basically Jim hated Peter. Peter had no idea why - okay MAYBE it had something to do with Peter's cruel pranks and general self conceit. But that was still no excuse! After all Peter _was_ awesome - and he had created a badass fairytale kingdom with one hand behind his back.

Peter kicked a leg over his knee. Happily, he twirled a neon sneaker.

Yup. It had sure been a fun, productive six years. And Peter loved it. For the first time in his life, he flourished in a home that was malleable and electric as he.

There was only one thing missing.

Peter sighed. Reaching to his belt, he untied a pan flute from a rainbow of strings. Smoothing his lips once against the curved pipes, Peter began to play. It was a sad song, one he doodled on that first lonely night, and one that survived the passage of time.

Peter was not open with his music. He never had been, especially as a student. But even as the notes blew down to Fantasia, Peter continued to play. The sad song trickled into another familiar tune, one that was on Peter's mind: happy birthday.

"Hiiiiiiiiiiiii Peter!"

The notes sliced staccato then stopped.

"Hi Tink." Doffing his Indian headdress, Peter bunched it over the pan flute. Cloud condensation gathered like pearls on the colorful feathers.

Ghost of a tune in his ears, Peter turned. Tinkerbell was grinning under an aviator hat and lime green goggles. Peter adjusted for a better view. Even her wings were framed with leather straps and metal gears.

"Nice monkey suit." he teased. "Doesn't that chafe your baby-girl wings?"

"Rich." Tinkerbell flittered to the cloud. "Coming from you, pow wow central. Birdbrain."

Peter grinned. He wasn't sure what 'proper' guardian attire entailed. But since he was above the rules and _awesome_ , Peter wore whatever he wanted. And ' _whatever he wanted_ ' was usually a fusion of Indian feathers, sunglasses, war paint, ripped jeans, and bright green kicks.

Like the Skyworld, Peter's wardrobe underwent violent changes. Except for one item: a silver thimble around his neck. Wendy's silver thimble.

"Whatcha doing up here?" Peter rubbed the thimble. "Underworld blow up yet?"

"Tuh. I wish." Tinkerbell removed her goggles. She sat beside Peter. "But nope. I have an update for you. Concerns the Skyworld. Apparently we're trying the dragon thing again."

Peter brightened. "No way!"

"Way."

"Dragons? Real dragons? In the Skyworld?"

"That's the stinking plan."

Triumphantly Peter punched a fist. "Ah-HA! The cleverness of me!"

"It wasn't you, Stupid." Tinkerbell folded her wings. "Vinny - the _quote on quote_ dynamite expert - blew the crap out of a tunnel the Seven Dwarves were digging. Guess what popped out?"

"Guessing it wasn't the Easter Bunny."

"Dragons." Tinkerbell sneered. "Lots and lots of dragons. We were going to barbeque them, but then _Miss Holier than Thou_ \- "

Peter's ears pricked. That was Tinkerbell's name for Wendy.

"-got all motherly and didn't let us cook them. Fawn got excited and suggested we try dumping the dragons on you. _Then_ Miss Holier than Thou said you could handle it, so here we flipping are! Dragons!"

Tinkerbell squirmed. "Dragons! Yuck! I hope you're ready!"

Wind whispered over the cloud. Distracted, Peter squinted into the sky. "I was born ready, Tink. Born ready."

Peter lifted a knee, preparing for possible flight. Intently, he searched the skyscape.

"Nothing." Peter murmured. Suspiciously he lowered his knee. "Nothing yet. Hm. Tink?"

"Yeah-yah?"

"Got anything else for me?"

Tinkerbell batted her eyelashes. "What you'd have in mind, Hotstuff?"

Peter couldn't resist a grin. "Knock it off. But seriously, don't you have something else to tell me? Like a message?"

"Message? Message, what kind of message?"

"I dunno." Peter rolled the thimble under his thumb. "Like...a thank you message?"

Tinkerbell glared at the thimble. "From _whom_? Exactly?"

Peter paused. He released the silver chain.

"Forget it."

Grey clouds obscured the stars. Peter blew and they whisked away. For a moment he let the starlight shine on his crystal circlet. It felt heavy on his head. Then gently, he looked down.

"How is she?"

Tinkerbell chipped her nail polish. Lime green. "Who?"

Peter was callous. " _Your boss_."

"Oh." Tinkerbell snorted. She crossed her legs. "Miss Holier Than Thou? I dunno, but let me tell you -did _she_ let herself go. Not that there was much to lose..."

Peter clenched his fists.

" _Tink_."

"What?" Tinkerbell huffed at the growl in Peter's voice. "What I'm _telling thah truth_! You want me to lie, Peter? Do you? Plus I'm not the pixie to ask..."

Slyly, Tinkerbell glanced. "She spends most of her time with Terrence."

"Terrence?" Peter turned like a gunshot. His neck cracked. "Blondie? Pixie prep boy? _That_ Terrence, from school? Why? How much? What are they doing?"

"Who knows?" Tinkerbell slid a hand over Peter's thigh. She smiled. "It's after work hours."

Peter swallowed nails. "What? She - "

Peter buckled, nearly knocked over as wind ripped over the cloud. Tinkerbell gasped as the wind punched between them.

Peter flew. Wind lashed him back and forth, like a whip. Kicking over the gust, Peter grabbed. He knotted the wind between his hands.

The wind was wild. The wind was cold.

Peter looked at Wendy's thimble. The metal was frozen against his skin. Frost covered the silver. Swirly, fern shaped frost.

Peter exploded with excitement. Raising a hand, we swept away the clouds.

And there, sailing on the wind, was a boy. A boy with white skin, whiter hair, and icy blue eyes fixed on the moon.

"My ticket..." Peter laughed, springing into the wind. "...to the Outerworld!"

Peter dove. The boy in full target, he counted down the seconds until they would collide.

"Three..."

The boy jackknifed into the moonlight.

"Two..."

The boy pushed into the Outerworld with a crooked staff.

"ONE!"

Peter lunged. Wrenching the boy's blue hoodie and leap-frogging over his head, Peter rode into the Outerworld and erupted into space.

"YES!" Peter zig-zagged between constellations and raced shooting stars. "YES! YES! YES! YES BABY! YESSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS!"

Peter was enraptured! He was thrilled! He was AWESOME! Laughing his head off and spinning like a comet, Peter blazed for the Wishing Star.

Jack Frost stared through Peter's exhaust.

"What the heck was that?"

Bemused, Jack looked to the Man in the Moon. As always, the Man in the Moon refused to answer.

"Fine." Scowling, Jack shouldered his staff. Bare feet kicking, he followed Peter's trail.

"If you won't tell me, Man in the Moon, then I'll just figure it out myself."

* * *

 **Big4girl poem:**

 _ **All children grow up except for two now they tell stories by the light of the moon**_

* * *

 **sultal's note: I was asked to provide pictures of the guardian's outfits, which help to reflect the different cultures of their realms.**

 **Since FF is not stellar on letting me post links, the best I can do is give you directions to my Deviant Art page:**

 **Deviant Art account name:** sultal-wf

 **Gallery Folder:** Giving Fantasia Art

 **Wendy's outfit title:** Giving Fantasia: Wendy's Guardian Outfit

 **Peter's outfit title:** Giving Fantasia: Peter's Guardian Outfit

 **I will post Ariel and Jim when they arise in the story.**


	5. Chapter 5: Peter, Jack, and Jim

**Chapter 5: Peter, Jack, and Jim**

Who is Jack Frost?

Well, no one really knows. Not even Jack Frost.

His memory began with darkness. That was the first thing Jack remembered: he was drifting inside a frozen pond. It was dark. It was cold. And he was scared.

But then, Jack remembered seeing the moon. At first it was a glimmer refracted through the ice. Then the moonlight intensified. Almost magically the ice spider-webbed and cracked. And as the ice broke, Jack was lifted from the pond and into the air.

He remembered gasping. But not from exhaustion and not from fear.

It was because of the moon. Jack remembered seeing the moon. It was _so_ big and it was _so_ bright, it seemed to chase the darkness away. And when it did, Jack wasn't scared anymore.

Jack had smiled.

The Man in the Moon had smiled back. _Your name is Jack Frost_ he had said.

But that was all the moon ever told Jack. And that was a long, _long_ time ago.

Jack had lived 300 hundred years since. And each century was Hell. For even though Jack had no recollection of who he had _been_ , and no meaning of who he _was_ , that was not the worst part.

The worst part was that no one could see him. No one.

Jack had tried to be seen. Relentlessly in fact. But nothing worked. It didn't matter if he snuck up like a cold chill, or smushed a snowball into someone's face, he remained unseen. People just passed over him like a ghost.

Jack began to wonder: who was he? At best, he was a saying, an expression, the personification of cold. " _Put on your scarf! Don't let Jack Frost nip your nose_!" At worst, he was an invisible boy with no memory of his past and no hope for his future.

It was almost like he didn't exist. And it was unbearable. So unbearable, Jack pleaded the moon for answers every night.

 _"If there's something I'm doing wrong..."_ Jack would always say, _"Can you... can you just tell me what it is? Because I've tried everything, and no one ever sees me."_

The moon would stay silent. And Jack would always end with an angry plea.

 _You put me here! The least you can do is tell me... tell me why._

But the moon never responded. Not once. Jack would always depart bitter to the bone and tormenting over his unanswered questions.

It was awful.

 _Why_ he existed, _why_ he had lived hundreds of years, and _what_ he was meant to do...Jack did not know. A part of him wondered if he ever would.

And a part of him did not care!

Jack was frustrated with The Man in the Moon, _but_ he used his frustrations as incentive for mischief making. And _ohhhhhh_ was he good at it!

There were certainly perks to being Jack Frost. He was invisible. He could fly on the wind. He was on his own. He had no rules and no responsibilities. And...he could magically manipulate snow and ice.

Yup. It was as good as it sounded.

Jack was a winter hellion. Armed with his magical staff and a twisted sense of humor, Jack used his powers to prank The Otherland. He could freeze lakes in summer and frost flowers in spring. He could start a playground war just by throwing a snowball, or start sledding races just by icing a hill.

Wherever there was Jack Frost there was a snow day! Unappreciated of course, but Jack enjoyed the fruits of his labors all the same. Kids loved his mischief. It was great fun. And in a dismal country like The Otherland, sometimes a little mischief was the sparkle of hope kids needed to survive.

Yup, sometimes it was great being Jack Frost.

Until recently.

"The Guardians." Trailing after his redheaded attacker, Jack ruminated over the most recent development in his screwed-up life. "They want me to be a guardian. Geeze."

Jack kicked. The wind pushed him through the stars.

"What makes them think I want to be a guardian?"

Jack glared sideways, directing his comment at the moon. But the moon, as always, did not reply. Discontented, Jack continued to brood.

The Otherland was a dreadful place to live. Dreadful. The king had little power, and the country was exhausted from battles and black magic. The Otherland had two surplus products: fear and death.

However, the children were safe. They were protected by four magical guardians. These guardians, blessed with extraordinary powers, were responsible for defending the children of The Otherland. As long as the children _believed_ in them, the guardians devoted their lives.

Jack grimaced. He had _met_ the four Otherland guardians. He met them last night. Right after they kidnapped his butt to the North Pole. And it had NOT been a picnic.

Jack did not adore any one of the four guardians.

First there was North: alias Santa Claus, St. Nicholas, Pere Noel, Ded Moroz yatta, yatta, yatta. He was not what Jack had expected. True, North was big, he was jolly, he had a beard of white, and he _really_ liked cookies. But, North was also a husky-Ruskie warrior with bilateral forearm tattoos reading NAUGHTY and NICE. Not _exactly_ the stereotypical _little round face, with a little round belly, that shakes when he laughs, like a bowl full of jelly_.

Second, there was Tooth: alias The Tooth Fairy. A human-pixie-hummingbird hybrid, Tooth was bubbly, beautiful, and _obsessed_ with teeth. _Unimaginably_ obsessed. The instant she met him, Tooth demanded to see Jack's teeth. Apparently his teeth were legendary - _white as freshly fallen snow_ \- and Jack was very flattered until Tooth stuck her fingers in his mouth.

Third, there was Sandy: alias The Sandman. Sandy had done most of the explaining - or at least he tried - but no one could follow his dialogue. Sandy communicated by generating images. And for a guy that didn't like to talk (for fear he might wake someone up), Sandy sure had a lot to say. The images had blown in a dust storm over Sandman's head. But Jack had been in no mood to interpret.

Finally, there was Bunny: alias the _arrogant-self-conceited -jack-rabbit-jerk_. He also went by The Easter Bunny. Bunny was six feet tall, pure muscle, threw a mean boomerang, and he didn't like Jack. But Jack didn't like him. They were not going to be friends.

And they were not going to be fellow guardians.

Jack paused. Ponderously he climbed over a star.

They had asked Jack to be a guardian. They had asked him to join their sacred brethren. North, Tooth, Sandy, and Bunny (however begrudgingly) had asked him to protect the children of the Otherland.

Well, that was not true. The guardians didn't really _ask_.

According to North, Jack was _chosen_ to be a guardian. And he was chosen by the Man in the Moon.

At first Jack was stunned. Then he was furious. The Man in the Moon spoke to North? The Man in the Moon spoke to the guardians? _But not him? If the Man in the Moon wanted him to be a guardian...then why couldn't he tell Jack himself? After 300 years, THIS was the moon's answer? Spending eternity as an Otherland guardian, thinking of new ways to bribe kids?_

 _No._

Jack had refused. The guardians had tried to reason with him. They insisted that guardianship was his destiny. They said he could not refuse.

So Jack left. He grabbed the wind, soared into the sky, and flew straight for the moon.

Jack wanted answers. And he wanted them now.

But then something strange happened.

Jack was ambushed. Out of nowhere a redhead-green-sneaker-wearing-elf-like freak seized Jack's hoodie, clamored over his shoulders, and vaulted into the stars. Then he just flew away. Never once did he apologize. Never once did he thank. Never once did he look back.

Jack's initial reaction (" _What the heck was that_?") was very suitable. To his knowledge, no other beings aside from Tooth, Sandy, magical reindeer, dragons, and Jack himself could fly. But here was this redheaded-elf-freak defying gravity!

Moreover, this attacker...could _see_ him.

Naturally, Jack wondered: who _was_ this redheaded-elf-freak? Since the Man in the Moon refused to answer ( _again_ ), Jack investigated for himself.

It wasn't easy. The redheaded-elf-freak was a fast flier, and he zipped between stars like a minnow in a pond. However, his final destination quickly became obvious. The stars dispersed and the sky emptied, leaving a clear path to a tiny broken star.

"The Wishing Star?" Jack hesitated. He looked down. The Wishing Star hung directly over The North Pole. The guardians could possibly be watching. More than anything, Jack wanted to be alone.

And what of the star itself? It was dangerous. The star had split several years ago. Jack remembered. The black magic inside the star had escaped. And although it had not affected The Otherland, Jack remembered hearing children screaming to the far west. It gave him nightmares. It had not been fun.

Dubiously, Jack studied the star. The pieces were still broken. The space between them was grotesquely stretched. And something... _something_ was still wrong. Jack couldn't identify it exactly; it was more of a feeling, a sour edge to the air. But something was _definitely_ wrong with the Wishing Star.

"And wouldn't you know..." Sardonically, Jack watched as his attacker slapped both hands on the star. "...the redheaded-elf-freak jumps right on board. Geeeze..."

Casting a final angry glance, Jack turned from the moon.

"Time to play nice with the elf."

Jack swooped for the Wishing Star. The landing was rough because the star was covered in a diamond-crystal crust. Currently, his attacker was crawling over the star and inspecting the crust. He looked like a hunting dog, sniffing for clues.

Bare feet prickling, Jack leaned over the star. He extended his staff and poked.

"Hey! Redheaded-elf-freak!"

"Ow!" The redheaded-elf-freak looked up. Jack was surprised. It was a boy. Twenty years old, maybe twenty one. Not much older than Jack looked himself

Resentfully the boy brushed his green shirt. Frost from Jack's staff melted into the fabric.

"The name's Peter." the boy said. Irritated, he returned to the star. "Peter Pan. And not that I care - but who the heck are you?"

Jack ignored the irony of the statement.

"Who the heck am I?" Jack motioned behind. "I'm the guy you just torpedoed, that's who! What kind of a question is that, who the heck am I? Please, who the heck am I! Who the heck are _you_?"

The boy - Peter Pan - withdrew his dagger. Delicately he _chinked_ the blade into the star.

"I'm Peter Pan."

"Got that." Jack said. "Who is Peter Pan? And why did he dive bomb me?"

Peter crouched. Concentrating, he made small stabbing motions into the star's luminous crust.

"I'm the guardian of the Skyworld." Peter swept his hand across the crust. He blew. Stardust fluffed into his eyes. "And I needed you to get into the Outerworld. Happy?"

Jack was flummoxed. And he was _positively_ not happy.

"Guardian?" Jack glanced at the moon. "You're not a guardian. I just met them. You know - Santa Claus, Sandman, the Tooth Fairy, the Easter Bunny?"

Peter smirked. "That sure sounds threatening."

Jack felt stupid. He sounded like a cheese-puff!

"It sounded better in my head." Jack batted his staff to wipe away his embarrassment. "Still, you can't be a guardian. Believe me _I know_. I was just recruited to their fairytale team."

Peter picked at the star crust. "Sounds like a dream come true."

"Think again." said Jack.

"Tell me about it." Peter agreed. "Being a guardian sucks."

Peter stabbed. A sparkling pebble dislodged from the star. After a swift inspection Peter grunted and tossed the pebble over his shoulder. "Too big."

"Okay um, dude." Jack rapped his staff. "You're not a guardian. Dazed, confused, and interestingly dressed maybe - but definitely not a guardian. The guardians are down there. In the North Pole."

Jack pointed. He waited for Peter to look before continuing.

"And yeah, I agree. They do have wimpy names, I'll give you that. But they _are_ guardians. And they do protect the children of the Otherland. Case in point. So there."

Peter ground his dagger methodically into the star. He suddenly seemed very interested.

"What did you say your name was again?"

"I didn't." Jack said.

"Well." prompted Peter. "What is it?"

"Jack. Jack Frost."

"Jack Frost?" Peter's eyebrows rose. "As in - _nip your nose_?"

Jack glowered. "As in _\- freeze your butt_."

"Huh." Peter fingered his hilt. "And you're a guardian? Of the Otherland?"

Jack contemplated. He felt the moonlight on his back.

"Dunno." he finally said. "Preliminary period. Undecided."

Peter leaned. "You have a _choice_?"

Suddenly, Jack was uneasy. Perhaps it was Peter's tone - awed, almost envious. Or perhaps it was North's insistence that Jack could not reject his destiny. Either way, Jack wondered if he _had_ a choice. _Could_ he refuse to be a guardian?

"I uh..." Jack shook his head. He needed to change the subject. "Sure. Sure I have a choice. Why not?"

Peter returned to the star.

"Because." he said, chipping away the crust. "I didn't. None of us did."

Jack frowned. "Us?"

"Yup. Us." Peter wriggled a tiny shard, trying to break it loose. "Me, Ariel, Rat Tail, and..."

Almost reverently Peter paused. Then, snapping free the shard, he finished.

"And Wendy. Wendy Darling."

Peter rotated the shard. It twinkled between his fingertips.

"All of us. Guardians of Fantasia." Peter sighed. Then, he flicked the shard away. "Too small."

"Fantasia?" Jack hopped after Peter. "You're from Fantasia? Fantasia has guardians?"

"Yup."

"Since when?"

"Since six years ago. Since..." Peter tapped the Wishing Star. "...since this baby broke. It's a long story. But basically it goes something like this - the star broke, shadows came, mass exorcism, we fought, we won, new king, new guardians, and we all lived happily ever after in separate realms never to see each other ever again. The end."

Jack hung sideways off the star.

"You seem bitter."

Caustically Peter laughed. "I _am_ bitter. But, I'm also awesome. So it works."

Jack smiled. "You know if you hadn't attacked me, I'd say your philosophy of life is pretty accurate."

"Yeah. Life bites."

" _Right_?"

Jack swung across the star. The redheaded-elf-freak was growing on him. Peter had no airs and no pretenses; he was just a rogue with an extra-large dose of narcissism. Much like Jack himself - cool.

"So why'd you attack me anyway?" Jack asked. "Kicks and giggles?"

Peter chopped his dagger across the star. "Nah not really, but it _was_ fun. I mean you freaked! Shoulda seen your face!"

Jack could appreciate the humor. "Haha yeah. But seriously. What the heck?"

"Well Fantasian guardians - " Abruptly Peter stabbed. Jack jumped as the crust popped into tiny sparkling pieces.

"Fantasian guardians are separated into four realms." Peter continued. Meticulously, he examined the brittle bits.

"Underworld - that's Wendy's; Seaworld - that's Ariel's; Skyworld - that's mine; and Outerworld - that's Rat Tail's. We're not allowed to pass between realms until the king calls or something. That's why I needed you. You can pass through the realms. I can't. It's supposed to be impossible."

Peter lifted a twinkling stone. He held it to his eye. "Technically."

"Technically?" Jack started to smile. Suddenly, he stopped. Something - at least he thought it was something - had flickered over the star. And bizarrely, Jack thought he saw the color...pink?

"Weird." Jack tilted, improving his view. "Mega weird. Hey, Peter Pan. Did you see - ?"

"HA! HA HA HA! Yes! Yo! Jack Frost!"

Beaming, Peter displayed an open palm. Jack peered. A dazzling, almost perfectly square star fragment sat in his hand.

"Wadda think?" Peter asked.

Jack blinked, dumfounded. "It's...nice." Warily he moved his staff. "But this is so sudden. We just met. Please for the love of god - say that's not for me."

Peter hooted.

" _You_? Come on, freak! Gross! No!"

Jack removed his staff. "And we're friends again."

Elatedly, Peter tossed the star fragment. He smiled, catching the diamond and watching it shine.

"It's for a ring, dummy! Ya see, I'm engaged and - "

"GET OUT!"

The Wishing Star lurched. Jack tumbled over Peter as dark energy smashed into the star and punched both boys over the edge. Jack grappled for his staff. A second blast of energy hurled him under the star and nearly rattled the teeth from his head.

"What the - " Jack swung his staff. "-what the heck is -WHAT?"

Surprised, Jack bounced against the star. A little pink blob had bubbled before him - and the blob was giggling.

"What the heck?" Jack spluttered. He swiped.

"What the heck!" the pink blob mimicked, dodging the staff.

" _YOU_ \- " Someone ripped Jack upright. Jack fleetingly saw a robotic-spacer suit before he was wrenched against a black motorcycle helmet.

"What - " a mechanical voice breathed behind the helmet, "-the _Hell_ are you doing here?"

Jack floundered. Then, he pointed. "His fault!"

The spacer turned. He swore as Peter attacked.

"Hiya Rat Tail!" Gracefully, Peter somersaulted over the spacer. He landed with a bow. "Miss me?"

The spacer flung Jack aside. Without hesitation he aimed a blaster at Peter and fired.

"Whoa!"

Peter danced over the star. He flipped, skipped, and dipped as lasers peppered his heels.

Jack bolted. Running for cover, but too enthralled to retreat, he jumped into the wind.

The spacer noticed. Distracted, he half turned to Jack.

"HA!" Peter twirled his dagger. "HA! RAT TAIL! YA MISSED!"

The spacer turned. In one motion he thrust out an arm and blasted Peter Pan to kingdom come.

Peter crashed from the Outer World. And as he sunk, the tiny star fragment twinkled from his hand.

"Dude!" Jack thrashed his staff. Frost iced the spacer's boots. "Dude! What's your problem! Ever hear of anger management - "

"GET OUT!"

The blaster detonated. A laser smacked Jack's chest and warped through his body. Paralyzed by the energy, Jack fell. He fell down, down, down...away from the Outerworld, through the Skyworld, and into Fantasia.

Jim Hawkins growled. Wrathfully, he lowered the blaster.

"Come on Morph."

Happily, the little pink blob conceded. Humming a merry tune (one on Jim's mind - Happy Birthday) Morph followed Jim across the star.

"What were they doing?"

Jim knelt. He traced the lines chiseled by Peter's dagger. Quickly, he scanned the second half of the Wishing Star. When no marks were identified, he relaxed.

Then, Jim noticed.

Something was wrong. Something was wrong _between_ the stars. The canvas of space linking the broken pieces...was stretched. Like a rubber band...ready to snap.

Jim peered through his motorcycle helmet. Carefully he reached.

He froze as black magic stirred beneath his hand.

"Shit."

* * *

 **sultal's note: I think it's safe to give the preview for Jim's outfit. Find it at my DA page "sultal-wf" under the title "Giving Fantasia: Jim's Guardian Outfit." ty - keep writing.**

 **And yes - I tried very hard to keep Jack's script similar to the lines he had in the movie. So if it seems like plagiarism...it is. :P**


	6. Chapter 6: Pitch Black

**Chapter 6: Pitch Black**

"SHIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIT!"

 _The Princess_ rocked like a loose tooth. Then it _popped_ as the ocean emptied into a giant whirlpool.

Commands were lost in the chaos. The crew tumbled. The bowsprit flipped vertical. The stern deck plunged into the sea. Waves unstrung the rigging. Spray soaked the sails. And Charybdis gulped, trying to swallow _The Princess_ whole.

They were going to die. Oh _shiver-their-timbers_ they were going to die. _The Princess's_ fate could be condensed into one phrase.

 _Certain death_.

Fortunately, those were two of Sinbad's favorite words.

"SHIT!" Sinbad repeated. Elated, he leapt across a wooden plank extended over the sea. Life-line taut, he bounced as the ship sliced through the whirlpool. "OH BABY! YESSSSSSSSSSS!"

"Captain Sinbad!" Tulio wrestled a loose line. Pirates darted behind him as he called through a cupped hand. "Captain! Remember the plan – "

 _The Princess_ careened. Sinbad laughed as waves spilled over the bulwark and battered his crew.

"They'll be dog-tired tonight!" Victoriously, Sinbad flourished is scimitar at the whirlpool. "RUBER! Full steam ahead!"

Yes. _They had made it!_ Sinbad inhaled, drenching himself with the whirlpool's energy. _Once again, they had found the magical whirlpool, Charybdis!_

It was a small wonder. Finding Charybdis was a triumph unto itself. The whirlpool occupied icy waters just shy of the North Pole. Navigating the glaciers was safe as kissing a sabretooth-tiger (and just about as enjoyable).

Moreover, Charybdis was nearly impossible to find; its coordinates were garbage! _Second star to the right until you hear the siren's song_. What kind of directions were those? Unhelpful, that's for certain! The best a pirate could do was sail for the Wishing Star, listen for eerie singing, and pray that the whirlpool didn't open right under his keel.

Luckily, Sinbad had chased Charybdis for six years. And he was a pro. Still...

Sinabd grimaced. _They almost didn't make it._ For some reason, the North Pole was particularly inhospitable on this exploration. Orcas burrowed into the hull, icebergs trapped them in corners, and the wind howled over the siren's song.

Sinbad scanned for the moon. The face was full and bright tonight. And judging by its trajectory, Sinbad estimated the night was waning fast. The moon was approaching zenith height – it was almost midnight. In minutes it would be September twenty-second. The Autumnal Equinox would end. And the whirlpool would disappear – along with the mysteries inside.

Sinbad rose. He grinned defiantly at the wild waters.

 _Not on his watch._ _This time he was going to conquer Charybdis. This time, he was going to win._

"GENTLEMEN!" Sinbad turned on the plank. He tugged his life-line. "Gentlemen! This is it! This is the moment we've been waiting for! TULIO!"

Tulio gave a waterlogged glare. "Aye?"

Sinbad smiled. "What's the plan?!"

"Quickly!" Dimitri yelled, hauling Vlad upright. The ship crashed, knocking them into Drago and Rothbart. "Before we sink would be nice!"

Tulio clung to the mast. He was the brains of _The Princess_ (which was a good indicator of the crew's intelligence), but he hated strategizing under stress. And riding a rickety ship across a gigantic whirlpool was pretty stressful.

"Okay!" Tulio panted. "Here it goes –Captain Sinbad jumps overboard tethered to a rope. While he explores the whirlpool we paddle for dear life!"

The ocean roared. Miguel called from the shrouds.

"And _that's_ your plan is it?"

"Yup!" Tulio hollered. "That's pretty much it!"

Miguel beamed. "Well I like it! Captain Sinbad!" Miguel dodged a broken sheave block. "Good luck!"

Sinbad saluted. Balancing on the plank, he prepared to dive.

"Ruber!" Sinbad called as his life-line was extended. "Set full course against the current! Keep to the whirlpool's outskirts! If I'm not back in ten minutes – "

Sinbad jerked up a thumb. "Pull me out! Savvy?"

Ruber glowered from the helm.

"Transparently." he answered, turning the wheel.

Sinbad paused. Overcoming a sudden suspicion he peered at Ruber. Perhaps it was the perilous climate obscuring his vision, but Sinbad swore that Ruber had spoken with a curled lip.

But just at that time, the ship lurched. Sinbad stumbled off the plank. The rope buzzed over the bulwark, trailing behind him like a fishing line.

Sinbad whooped. Stomach in his mouth and adventure in his heart, he dropped into the whirlpool.

 _Smack_. He belly-flopped, lost his breath, sunk –

– and was hurled into the mercy of the Charybdis.

It was terrifying.

Sinbad had traveled many estranged lands. He'd explored the most bizarre places, including a dragon's stomach, the edge of the world, and a girl's bathroom.

But _nothing_ could have prepared him for Charybdis. The whirlpool was...

...creepy. Almost...disturbing.

Above the surface, the whirlpool had screamed. But underwater, the noise stopped. All Sinbad could hear was the singing. There were no words, just a voice. A voice singing long, beautiful vowels: _Ah ah ahhh...ah ah ahhh...Ah ah ahhh...ah ah ahahahh..._

It was the song of the siren. Sinbad had expected to be seduced by the song. _And_ he had expected the voice of a woman. But he was surprised. The voice sounded like...a little girl. A clear, sunny little girl. And for some reason, that scared Sinbad even more.

But the siren's song was the _least_ disconcerting.

The whirlpool was a monster. Whether it was from hubris or inexperience, Sinbad had underestimated its power. The force was suffocating. Lifeline cutting into his waist, Sinbad swung like a ball on a string. Water pressure increased by a thousand magnitudes as the current drove him down, down, down...

Sinbad kicked. Frantically he climbed the lifeline. Red scar burning across his palm, he squeezed the rope.

The heart of the whirlpool was pitch black. _Pitch black._

And, it was...

"Moving?"

Sinbad stared. And clearly he saw. The center of the whirlpool, the place where water converged and air did not go, was _moving_. It was moving like a bag of black worms.

 _Something_ was down there. _Something_ was trying to get out.

Sinbad grinned. Releasing the lifeline, he descended into the vortex.

* * *

 **Big4girl poem:**

 ** _In Pitch Black I can't see, but letting him out would be the death of me._**


	7. Chapter 7: The Boogie Man

**Chapter 7: The Boogie Man**

It was a mistake.

A BIG mistake.

Sinbad made a mental note – voluntarily flushing oneself down a humungous toilet was _not_ fun. Gutsy maybe. But not fun.

Water fluxed across his face, nearly stretching the skin off his bone. His spine twisted and cracked. The pressure was too heavy and the current was too strong. The whirlpool had him. It would never let him go.

Sinbad couldn't have escaped if he tried. So he didn't

Fully accepting that he was probably going to die, Sinbad closed his eyes and hoped for the best. He might've been a filthy pirate, but Sinbad was ever the optimist. Optimism –it was the only way to stay alive. It was also the only way to keep running away without looking back.

So, Sinbad fell. Concentrating on the siren's voice, he hit the heart of the whirlpool –

—and breathed.

Sinbad opened his eyes. He gasped, gulping air.

He could breathe! But...he was still underwater.

Sort of. Kind of. Not really.

Sinbad floated from his lifeline. He was suspended within some sort of buoyant matrix – it was similar to water, but breathable like air. Experimentally Sinbad extended his hands, testing his surroundings.

Sinbad knew he was somewhere within the whirlpool's epicenter because it was pitch black, just as he had observed before descending into the heart of the vortex. Rings of darkness wheeled around him, twisting through each other without sound.

Sinbad squinted. From above, he had described the twisting darkness as a bag of worms. But up close, the darkness looked more like...

 _Shadows_ Sinbad thought. Curiously, he reached for a wispy tendril as it swished by. His fingertips suddenly felt cold, but the shadow was too far to touch.

Sinbad rotated on his lifeline, gazing at the shadows. He was awed. As the shadows beat to the siren's song, Sinbad suddenly realized what this strange place resembled.

It resembled a dream. A lucid dream, where he knew he was dreaming but couldn't wake up.

Sinbad panicked. _Maybe he was dead! Oh boy, that would suck_.

More grouchy than dismayed, Sinbad looked up. He tugged his lifeline. The shadows recoiled around the rope. As they melted back together, Sinbad glimpsed the periphery of an aquamarine funnel. It looked like a revolving spring.

Sinbad relaxed. He was still under Charybdis. It was unlikely he was dead. _Always good news_. _Happy thoughts, Sinbad. Happy thoughts_.

Mood improved, Sinbad furthered his investigation. His vision was acclimating to the darkness. Sinbad noticed bulkier shapes drifting within the shadows. The shapes looked solid but incredibly dissimilar.

Sinbad swam through the dreamscape world. With difficulty he tried to identify the shapes as they passed. But there wasn't enough light. Then, remembering that stars appear brighter when viewed from peripheral vision, Sinbad studied the shapes from the corner of his eye.

He was astounded.

There were metal shards. Sinbad differentiated them immediately because they were blacker than the shadows. At first he thought the shards were made of iron. But when he grasped one, the shard stung – almost like ice. Each shard was jagged, and Sinbad imagined the pieces had exploded from a bigger object. But what that 'bigger object' could have been, Sinbad hadn't a clue.

There were bodies – perfectly preserved bodies gliding with the shadows. Sinbad saw warriors, witches, pirates, and mermaids. All their eyes were closed. All their expressions were gruesome.

There were monsters. The monsters were just as beautifully embalmed as the bodies. There were gremlins, minions, a red genie, a horned king, a Bengal tiger, a monstrous whale, and a dragon.

Sinbad gawked at the dragon. It was a vicious mother all right. And although it was lifeless, Sinbad paddled away – just to be safe.

Suddenly, the siren's song intensified. The voice strengthened as if the siren was coming closer. Sinbad spun, searching for the source of the song.

And he found it. The voice throbbed from a pale golden light. Swiftly the light approached, glowing from the center of a 300 gun pirate ship.

Sinbad gaped. Then, he kicked. Seizing the ship's figurehead he dove onto the deck. Yanking his lifeline for slack, Sinbad bounded from the forecastle and sprinted to the pale light.

He stopped short. The light illuminated the deck, and Sinbad could clearly see. The siren's voice was pulsating from a seashell necklace. And the seashell necklace was looped around a skeleton – a skeleton of a _seawitch_.

Sinbad retreated.

His crew had been right – Charybdis _was_ cursed. Everything hidden under the whirlpool – the seawitch skeleton, the singing seashell, the mummified bodies, the shadowy specters – was saturated with black magic.

Sinbad's first impulse was towards terror, but the second was towards thrill. Greedily, he leaned closer to the skeleton. Encircling the seawitch, he examined the chain caught between her spinal vertebrae.

Sinbad licked his lips. Fingers dancing, he practiced his maneuver to remove the seashell necklace.

Just then, his lifeline jerked. The shadows squirmed as the rope darted upwards, into the whirlpool.

Startled, Sinbad backpedaled and slipped. The lifeline tugged again, this time harder. His crew was pulling him out – either they thought he was dead or the Autumnal Equinox was ending...

...and the whirlpool was closing.

Sinbad lunged. Straining against the lifeline he seized the seashell necklace and pulled.

The seawitch's spine snapped. Her skull fell. The spiral shell closed beneath his hands.

And the shadows attacked. As the lifeline pulled him upward, the shadows fastened to Sinbad's mind. They chewed his brain, looking for memories.

And they found them. They found Sinbad's worst memories.

One in particular.

 _He was in Fantasia. Pirate's Point. - the cliff above the sea. It was snowing. It was cold._

 _A little boy was crying. He heard him running behind._

 _"Dad!" the little boy sobbed. Sinbad kept walking._

 _"Dad!" the little boy pulled his leg. Sinbad threw him away._

 _"Dad!" the little boy begged. Sinbad boarded his ship._

 _"Dad!" the little boy screamed. "Dad! Dad! DAD!"_

 _Sinbad sailed away._

 _"DAD!"_

 _Sinbad never looked back._

The memory exploded. It burst inside Sinbad's head, over and over. The screams of his son clashed with the siren's song, and the dissonance split Sinbad's eardrums.

Sinbad clenched his temples. He tried to scream, but water poured into his mouth as the lifeline squeezed him through the dreamscape world and into the ocean.

The shadows followed. Attached to Sinbad's mind they stretched through the funnel. The worlds inverted, like pulling a sock inside-out. The shadows, and all the cursed relics they held, emptied into the whirlpool.

Forces collided. The shadows spun opposite the water current, generating a force powerful enough to tear Sinbad apart. Black magic surged, spinning the whirlpool skyward and hurling Sinbad to the surface.

Sinbad slapped the water. The impact stung but he grabbed wildly at the lifeline and swam for _The Princess_.

"PULL!" Sinbad roared. Waves thrashed across his back. Darkness devoured the sky. "PULL ME IN! FASTER! PULL! PU—"

Sinbad choked. Ruber had leaned over the bulwark. Smirking once at Sinbad, Ruber seized the lifeline. Horrified, Sinbad watched as Ruber swung his sword, sliced the lifeline, and tossed it overboard.

Sinbad swore.

"MUTINY! TRAITOR! RUBER YOU SON OF A – "

He almost threw the seashell necklace. But as he reared, the cursed pirate ship erupted from the whirlpool. Propelled by shadows, the galleon charged after _The Princess_. Sinbad lifted his hands, preparing to be smashed, when suddenly he was pulled underwater.

Sinbad gagged. The pirate ship swept overhead as his captors dragged him deeper. Sinking by the ankles, Sinbad lifted the glowing seashell like a lantern.

Bubbles blew from his nose in surprise.

Mermaids. The cursed mermaids. They were _awake_! They were _alive_! There were two of them – one with ebony hair decorated with a waterlily, and one with orange hair shimmering like a flame. Sinbad couldn't see their faces, but their bodies were drop dead gorgeous. Yes Sinbad was a pirate - he took time to appreciate things like that.

Still, the mermaids were drowning him. And Sinbad was not okay with that.

Sinbad reeled, but the mermaids clamped his ankles tight. Remembering his scimitar ( _duh_ ), he slashed the redhead's tail.

The mermaid shrieked. Like a viper she spun.

Sinbad almost threw up. The mermaid's face, although it was perfect as a pearl, had no eyes. Her sockets were hollow, just like a jack-o-lantern.

The second mermaid turned. Her sockets were the same. Empty and sightless. But both sisters grinned as if they could see his terror.

It was too much for Sinbad. _To be guzzled by a monster whirlpool, visited by the ghost of his past, mutinied by his crew, and antagonized by zombie mermaids all in one day_?

It was too much! So Sinbad threw up.

The redhead laughed.

"Look Cordelia." she pointed. "Look what the pirate stole. In his hand. Can you see? Do you hear?"

The seashell necklace vibrated as the second mermaid spoke.

"Yes, Lana! It's Ursula's magic shell! And..." Cordelia tilted. "Why! That singing! It's our dear cousin! Ariel!"

"Yes!" Lana coiled around Sinbad. Leering, she reached for the shell. "Little Ariel's voice is trapped inside the magic shell! Poor Ariel! Poor little dearie!"

"But don't break it, Lana!" Cordelia swooped behind. Sinbad felt her fins between his legs. "Or Ariel's voice will leak out! And we don't want that! Ariel doesn't deserve a voice!"

"No." Lana agreed. "Ariel was a very bad girl! She trapped us in that whirlpool! She tried to lock us inside the Wishing Star!"

"But the Wishing Star is broken!" Cordelia raked Sinbad's hair. "So we couldn't be locked away! Silly Ariel!"

"Silly dearie!"

"Silly you!"

"Silly me!"

They giggled. Sinbad kicked, struggling for the surface.

Lana tapped her cheek mockingly.

"Do you think the pirate wants to breathe, Cordelia?"

"Hmm." said Cordelia. "I don't know Lana."

The mermaids swished around Sinbad as he groped for air. Suddenly Lana pounced.

"Let's go ask Captain Hook!" she squealed, racing for the surface.

Sinbad froze. A cannonball hit his chest.

 _Captain Hook_. _They were taking him...to Captain Hook?_

The red scar burned into his palm.

 _He would rather drown._

Sinbad fought. And he almost escaped.

Almost.

Translation: he didn't.

A net crashed underwater. The mermaids twisted Sinbad into the mesh. Waving goodbye, they disappeared as he was fished aboard the cursed pirate ship. As Sinbad scraped over the hull, he read the ship's insignia: _JOLLY ROGER_.

"Shit." Sinbad hissed. " _Not_ good."

It got worse. Sinbad was dumped on deck and untangled from the net. Undead pirates with empty eye-sockets hauled him to the mainmast. Sinbad grimaced – _The Princess_ had been boarded. His crew was chained to the mast.

Sinbad was spirited enough to be sardonic. _Tying victims to the mainmast for the purpose of public humiliation?_ He grunted. _Lame. Stereotypical Captain Hook_.

"Captain!" Miguel cheered. He looked way too upbeat. "Captain! You're alive! You released demons from Charybdis! Well done! _Look_! We're being imprisoned by zombies of the undead! Huzzah!"

Marina snarled against her ropes. "Shut up Miguel!"

Sinbad found Ruber. He pulled against the undead pirates. "Ruber! Are you _kidding_ me?! Mutiny? _Seriously_?! MUTINY?"

Ruber laughed. The ropes frayed against his enormous chest.

"Oh! Oopsie daisy! My apologies for not revolting years ago!"

"Wait!" Tulio's head whizzed back and forth. "Wait that was a _mutiny_?"

"Aye, lad!" Drago growled. "What'ya think?"

Tulio started to hyperventilate. Dimitri, Vlad, and Eret cried in confusion.

Sinbad snuffed a wad of mucus and spit.

"You lying weasel!" he yelled as the mucous splattered Ruber's cheek. "You scurvy snake! You son of a motherless goat! You filthy, _mutinous_ piece of – "

"My, my." said an icy voice. "Language, language."

Sinbad recognized the voice before he turned.

" _Captain Hook_. My, my." Sinbad mimicked. "Geeze I gotta say..."

Sinbad forced himself not to shudder. "You've looked better."

Unfortunately, it was true. Captain Hook was a walking corps. His bearing was still devilishly elegant _even_ in his cadaverous form, but Captain Hook stared with the same hollowed sockets as his undead companions.

And, Sinbad suddenly noticed, his hook was gone. Captain Hook's left wrist was a bloody stump. Bone poked between pink muscle. It looked like a raw ham-hock.

The opportunity was too priceless.

"Dinner anyone?" Sinbad jeered, pointing at Captain Hook's wrist. "What do they call you now? Captain Handless?"

Captain Hook smiled. Not _exactly_ the reaction Sinbad had been expecting.

"Gaston? Mr. Smee?"

Captain Hook extended his left arm. Coolly, he waited as two undead men shoved a hook into his bone.

Muscle squished. Bone crunched. Blood dripped. The hook stuck.

It was the second time that evening Sinbad felt like throwing up. But, half his crew vomited for him. Sinbad rolled his eyes. _Way to go guys. So proud._ If they were going to get out alive, it certainly wouldn't be by intimidation.

"That was gross and dramatic." Sinbad said. "Now – spill the beans Hook! Parlay! Why'd you capture _The Princess_? What do you want with my ship?"

Captain Hook rotated his arm, admiring his new appendage. The hook was long and sickled – like a scythe.

" _Dear_ Sinbad. Old mate. So _delightful_ to see you again. But...the devil to your ship. I want it not."

Sinbad squeezed the seashell necklace. His scar stung.

"I find that hard to believe." he retorted. "Okay then, Hook. _Who does_?"

" _Me_."

The shadows gathered before Sinbad. They writhed, almost like they were breeding.

Then a figure metamorphosed. It was the figure of a man. A man dark as night and lithe as the shadows that created him.

The man rose. He bared pointed teeth.

"It is I that desire your ship. Me. Pitch. Pitch Black." Pitch beheld Sinbad with silver-golden eyes. "The Boogie Man."

Sinbad lifted his chin. But he felt insignificantly small. And...afraid.

"Okay _Pitch_. What do you want with my ship?"

The Boogie Man grinned. " _Revenge_."

* * *

 **sultal's note: Oh I WISH I could take credit for the "son of a motherless goat" insult, but it's from a movie. props given. bam that happened.**


	8. Chapter 8: Hiccup and The King

**Chapter 8: Hiccup and The King**

Hiccup Horrendous Haddock III, son of Stoick the Vast, was the hope and heir to the Hairy Hooligans; the Hairy Hooligans were a Viking tribe that hailed from a small island located _smack_ in the middle of Dragon Country; the island was called Berk.

But most people just called him Hiccup. And most people knew him as 'The Dragon Trainer.'

Yes. Hiccup trained dragons, which was a convenient occupation when one lived in Dragon Country. It was _way_ better than killing dragons, which had been the craze until Hiccup came along. Hiccup wrote the book on 'how to train your dragon.' Literally – there was a book. And Hiccup wrote it.

Unsurprisingly, Hiccup's best friend was a dragon named Toothless. Toothless was a night fury – one of the rarest breeds of dragon.

Different sides of the same coin, Hiccup and Toothless shared striking similarities (despite being different species). Both were smallish but unrivaled in intelligence. Both were adrenalin junkies that preferred air-acrobatics to competitive dragon-racing. Both had fake limbs – Hiccup had a peg leg and Toothless had a prosthetic tail. Both had saved the other from near death. And they were even the same age.

Unquestionably: Hiccup and Toothless were a perfect match. They were best buddies. Forever.

It's okay to go _aww_. All the Vikings did.

Thanks to Hiccup and Toothless, Vikings and dragons coexisted like bacon and eggs. It was a long story that had ended happily ever after, until Hiccup's father, Chief Stoick, suggested they use the dragons to conquer the Otherland.

Hiccup had politely refused. Although his father was well intent and _would_ make a fair ruler, Hiccup had moral qualms.

 _"_ _But…there's already a king of the Otherland"_ Hiccup had said. _"And didn't we just try to take over the kingdom last week?"_

 _"_ _Aye!"_ Chief Stoick had grunted. _"But not w' dragons! The Otherland is dead Hiccup. People are dyin' every day. The King gave up his power long ago. It's time to take control. It's time for a change."_

Hiccup had agreed. It _was_ time for a change. But the change Hiccup had in mind was not a revolution. The change Hiccup had in mind…was peace.

Father and son clashed. And when Vikings clash, thunderstorms follow.

Hiccup had insisted they owed loyalty to The King. Chief Stoick had insisted they did not. Hiccup had revealed deep compassion for The King. Chief Stoick had called him naïve. Hiccup had vowed to bring peace to The Otherland, just as he had brought peace between dragons and Vikings. Chief Stoick had said _"Go ahead– try. But if ye fail Hiccup, if ye return to Berk empty handed – we fight. And w' the dragons, we will win."_

So Hiccup left Berk. And in three days flight, Hiccup and Toothless found themselves waiting outside a dark, decaying castle—waiting for The King. The King of the Otherland.

"Sure is a dusty night." Hiccup observed. Speaking to Toothless, he adjusted a spiked helmet under his arm. "You holding in there, Bud?"

Toothless shrugged. Neither liked waiting, and Toothless was growing impatient. His green eyes glowed moodily against the castle stonework.

"Aw come on bugga-boo. We can still pass the time." Hiccup tossed his helmet. "Fetch."

The helmet clattered down the castle steps. Toothless gave a look that clearly said ' _Really?'_ before trotting grumpily after the helmet. _Fetch. It wasn't much. But it was better than nothing._

"Dragons. In all my conquests – a real, live trained dragon. Wait until I tell Kayley!"

Hiccup turned to the knight sitting beside him. He grinned a little smugly.

"Never seen a dragon before, Sir Lionel?" Hiccup asked as Toothless returned.

Sir Lionel's shoulders bounced in silent laughter. Reminiscently he polished a nick in his sword. "Dragons, yes. Many. Too many. But none of them trained."

"Well – " Hiccup wrestled for his helmet. Toothless growled playfully, refusing to let go. This game was more fun than _fetch_.

"Well – " Hiccup continued as Toothless nearly dislocated his shoulder. "—all dragons are trained in Berk. You should visit – aw come on Toothless! Hand it over!"

Sir Lionel tried not to laugh.

"It would be an adventure." Sir Lionel agreed, wiping his sword. "But Dragon Country lies beyond Ogre Swamp. And Orgre Swamp is very dangerous place. Still…to see an island of trained dragons, _and_ to see how the dragons…."

Toothless head-butted Hiccup with the helmet.

"...are trained." finished Sir Lionel.

"It's a piece of cake," Hiccup grunted. He grabbed as Toothless tried to swallow the helmet. "Once you get past the saliva."

"Saliva?"

Toothless burped. The helmet popped from his mouth, spraying Hiccup with gooey spit.

Sir Lionel smiled as Hiccup frantically cleaned.

"I see." he said, returning to his sword.

Hiccup glowered. His cheeks were pink from rubbing, and his hair was gummy as smirked. Lovingly he nuzzled Hiccup.

Sighing, Hiccup threw the helmet. As Toothless chased, he settled beside Sir Lionel.

"Who's Kayley?" Hiccup asked, referring to the knight's previous comment. "Wife?"

Sir Lionel's face lit. He was a middle aged man hardened by war, but mere mention of his family softened Sir Lionel's complexion.

"No. Kayley is my daughter. She is seventeen. My _wife's_ name –" Sir Lionel smiled. "—is Julianna."

"Pretty." Hiccup said, and he meant it. Julianna _was_ a pretty name – much better than Hiccup! Vikings purposefully chose vulgar names to frighten enemies. But Hiccup thought the strategy was overrated; he preferred the graceful consonance of _Julianna_.

But it wasn't just her name that was pretty; _the way_ Sir Lionel spoke made it sound like a prayer. He said Julianna's name reverently, as if he were describing an angel.

Yes, Hiccup was a little romantic – _especially_ for a Viking. Cheek in hand, he imagined what Julianna looked like. Irritated, Toothless dropped the helmet on Hiccup's head, bonking him from the daydream.

"Are you married?" Sir Lionel asked as Hiccup threw the helmet again. "You must be nigh twenty."

"Nah." Hiccup watched Toothless. He feigned nonchalance. "Unattached. Busy dragon training and stuff. No need. No time."

Sir Lionel groaned. "You children! Wasting love and blaming time. You sound like Kayley. Julianna and I have tried to court her. She denounces every suitor. It's a battle. All she wants…is to be a knight."

Hiccup shrugged. "I guess she could want worse, right? But that's flattering – she wants to be a knight. Like father like daughter."

Sir Lionel was impressed. Hiccup's comment had been offhand but instantly appeasing. Subtle diplomacy? Effortless peacekeeping? From a _Viking_?

Interesting. Perhaps there _was_ hope for the Otherland.

"Yes." Sir Lionel responded. He regarded Hiccup with new-found respect. " Very flattering. Hm."

Sir Lionel sheathed his sword. "I believe The King was wise to ask you on his quest, Hiccup."

"Quest?" Hiccup said as Toothless scampered up the steps, "This isn't just a meeting? We're going on a quest?"

"Yes."

"Like a quest-quest? With questing beasts and stuff?"

"According to The King's wizards – yes."

Hiccup and Toothless gawked.

"The King has _wizards_?"

"Yes." Lionel repeated. "Two."

" _Two_?"

Toothless moaned. An icky sound gargled from the back of his throat.

"We don't have wizards in Berk." Hiccup explained. " _Kinda_ on purpose. Black magic is not _exactly_ our thing."

Toothless snorted. _Understatement of the year._

"Good." Sir Lionel said. "Schemdrick and Master Emrys are white magic wizards. Actually, Master Emrys is a wizard. Schmendrick is just a magician. He is Master Emrys' apprentice."

"Super." Hiccup said.

"Wizards will be useful on this quest." Sir Lionel assured, ignoring Hiccup's sarcasm. "Dire, even. You see, we are going to a magical land. We are going to Avalon."

"Avalon?" Hiccup whispered. Toothless cooed wondrously. "Avalon – you mean the Enchanted Wood? The northernmost edge of The Otherland? Along the Great Wall? Where The Otherland and Fantasia empty into the Northern Sea?"

"You've heard of it."

"Well, yeah!" Hiccup exclaimed. He pointed in a general northern direction. His aim wasn't quite accurate, so Toothless amended with a nudge.

"It's legendary!" Hiccup said. "Avalon of the Enchanted Wood! No one can enter Avalon because it's protected by a magical veil. It just sprung up 100 years ago! No one knows why!"

Sir Lionel spoke softly. "The King made it."

"Huh?"

"The King made Avalon. It's a story few have told, and fewer have heard. One hundred years ago, when The King was just a lad – roughly your age – he fell in love. He fell in love with a beautiful lady – her hair snow white, her eyes violet blue. They say this lady was immortal as a star. Well…The King loved this immortal lady. And she him. They loved unconditionally – as true love should be."

"But…" Sir Lionel's tone darkened. "Others desired her. An immortal lady that shown like a star? She was hunted. She was captured. She was sentence to the mercy of The King's enemies. And for a beautiful lady…that is a fate worse than death."

"What happened?" Hiccup said. Earnestly, Toothless nodded.

Sir Lionel gripped the stone step.

"He let the castle walls come down. He let the armies take the crown. He gave his kingdom…for his lady."

Hiccup traced Toothless's scales. "How?"

"How? How what?"

"How did he give his kingdom?" Hiccup motioned to the castle. "He's still king."

Sir Lionel turned bitter. "Do you believe that, Hiccup? Do you believe The Otherland still has a king?"

Hiccup bit his lip.

"No." he admitted. Sadly he recalled Stoick's warning - and his threat to overrun The Otherworld. "But…what happened to The King's lady?"

"She was saved."

"Is she…still? Still safe, I mean?"

"Yes."

"Then – " Hiccup peered at Sir Lionel, trying to understand. "—then why doesn't The King fight? Why doesn't he bring peace to The Otherland?"

Sir Lionel rubbed the hilt of his sword. For a moment, he reminisced.

"Have you ever heard of Caliburn, Hiccup?"

Hiccup answered with a question. "Caliburn?"

"Caliburn was a weapon." Sir Lionel said. "A magical weapon, wielded _only_ by the _true_ king. And it was prophesized that the man holding Caliburn – could bring peace to The Otherland. It was the weapon of The King. But..."

Sir Lionel turned. "The King sacrificed Caliburn – and all its magic – for his lady. He drove Caliburn into stony earth. The magic bled. And from it – grew an enchanted wood. An enchanted wood that no man could enter."

"Avalon?" Hiccup guessed.

"Yes. Avalon protected his lady. But, without Caliburn…The King was powerless. Powerless as a pauper."

Sir Lionel gazed north. "We are going to Avalon, Hiccup….because Caliburn _and_ The King's lady are there. They are waiting. Waiting for The King. As they have been…for 100 years."

Hiccup was silent. Even Toothless was awed. Both felt the significance of their quest. If they were victorious, The King would reunite with his lady _and_ wield his magical weapon. A magical weapon prophesized to bring peace.

Hiccup inhaled. "Sir Lionel?"

"Hiccup?"

Hiccup stroked Toothless. The dragon purred, head in his trainer's lap.

"Why now?"

Sir Lionel considered. Then, he nodded behind.

"Why not ask His Majesty yourself?"

Toothless darted upright. Hiccup turned. Their mouths dropped.

"Your Majesty." Sir Lionel extended a hand. "And wizards. Might I present, Toothless the Night Fury and Hiccup Horrendous Haddock III. The dragon and his trainer. Vikings from Berk."

Hiccup was overwhelmed. Swiftly he knelt. Even Toothless, normally suspicious of strangers, respectfully lowered his wings.

They beheld The King. And he was _nothing_ that had Hiccup expected. Not even close. Given the condition of The Otherland, Hiccup had expected a decrepit old man – for some reason always with missing toes.

But the man before him was _much_ different that Hiccup's version.

Two wizards shadowed behind, but The King _captivated_ the scene. He was a bright spirit in an aged face, and Hiccup couldn't decide if The King looked very young or very old. His hair was stark white and very thick, especially at his bangs. He was straight as a tower and lean as a birch, though not as tall. His hands were large, his smile was wide, his eyes were blue, and his expression…was genuine. He _actually_ looked happy to see them.

Oh yes. The King was grand.

But he was not intimidating.

The King smiled.

"Hiccup and Toothless of Berk." The King knelt, forcing Hiccup's gaze. "With your reputation, I would have thought you twice older."

Toothless perked. _They had a reputation!_ _And The King knew! Yay!_ Happily, Toothless approached. He allowed The King to pet his snout.

"Toothless." Hiccup murmured warningly. " _No_ saliva."

Toothless snuffed. He rolled, inviting The King to scratch his belly.

The King twinkled. He crouched beside Toothless. "Cool."

Hiccup was shocked. "Kings say _cool_?" he blurted.

"Eh-hem." The older wizard cleared his throat. He had a long white beard and pointed blue hat. "Your Majesty – perhaps a little decorum?"

"And – " added the younger wizard, also wearing a pointed blue hat. He pointed nervously to the stars. "—a little speed? Master Emrys and I saw a great darkness in the sky."

"Schmendrick is right." Scowled older wizard – Master Emrys "There's something befuddling afoot. Perhaps if _someone_ didn't transform my magic orb into a duck…"

Master Emrys glared meaningfully at his apprentice.

"…then we'd know for certain what's what!"

Schmendrick rubbed his enormous nose. "Sorry master."

"Remember – " Master Emrys said. "—the spell goes _hockity-pockity-wockity-WACK_! Not _hockity-pockity-wockity-QUACK_!"

Schmendrick cringed. "Next time."

"Heaven knows. _Josaphat_! Your Majesty! What are you doing?"

The King removed his hand from Toothless' mouth. He leaned, improving Master Emrys' view. "Retractable teeth."

"Bonus feature." Hiccup joked. He was relieved when The King laughed. It was easy to relax around him – he had the enthusiasm of a kid.

"Well _stop_ exploring." Master Emrys furrowed bushy brows. "This is _the_ quest, Your Majesty. We had best be off."

The King nodded. He brushed his hands.

"Yes. Thank you Emrys. I've…been awaiting this. For a _long_ time."

The King rose. Pointing skyward, he descended the steps.

"To Avalon. Follow the Wishing Star!"

They departed. One wizard ahead; one wizard behind; Sir Lionel aside The King; Hiccup and Toothless flying overhead.

But before they mounted, Hiccup noticed; The King wore an empty scabbard.

"Your Majesty?" Hiccup asked. "What sort of weapon is Caliburn?"

The King smiled. "A sword." he replied, touching the empty scabbard. "A magical sword."

...

* * *

 **Big4girl poem:**

 _ **Lost in the midst of time, the Otherland has no great pride.**_

 _ **A weak king in love with a girl on wings,**_

 _ **shall we wait to see what shall happen or take action so this world does not darken?**_

 _ **...**_

* * *

 **sultal's note: lyrics used from Alan Doyle's song "My Kingdom."**

 **And quick FYI – NONE OF THESE CHARACTERS ARE MADE UP! (just for some that are less familiar with the Non-Disney movies!) This story has a NO OC POLICY!**


	9. Chapter 9: Give Me Fantasia

**Chapter 9: Give Me Fantasia**

"Uhh- huuuuuh. You want my ship….for revenge?"

Sinbad sucked his cheek. He looked back to his crew.

"Guys." he muttered confidently. "Let me handle this."

Sinbad returned to Pitch.

"Ummmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm NO."

The undead army growled. The shadows hissed. Captain Hook flexed his scythed-hook.

Pitch raised a hand, staying their attack.

"No? What do you mean _no_?"

The devil living inside Sinbad's conscience did a happy dance. _Yay. He got to be snarky._

"Um, how else can I say it?" Sinbad counted on his fingers. "NO as in ' _way in Hell_.' NO has in zilch, zip, zippity, zero! NO as in nil, negative, negatory, nein! NO as in hit the road jack and don't you come back no more, no more, no more, no more! NO as in F off! NO as in F you! NO as in NO, as in NO, as in NO!"

Sinbad spread his hands. "Any questions?"

Pitch regarded Sinbad.

"Fine." Apathetically, he waved. "Kill them."

 _The Princess's_ crew – the most fearsome pirates of The Otherland – freaked out.

"Kill? Can we TALK about this?" Tulio shrieked. "Maybe if they ask nicely?"

"Sinbad!" Marina snarled. "Sinbad just listen to him!"

"We're going to die!" Tulio wailed. "We're going to die! We're going to die! We're going to die!"

"Does anyone else think things have escalated a little too quickly?" Dimitri cried.

"DEATH!" Tulio banged his head against the mast. "Pain! Anguish! Murder! Agony!"

"We're going to be executed?" Miguel bounced. "Can I have dibs on keel hauling?!"

"I still owe people money! – oh wait." Tulio blinked. "I'm starting to see the silver lining."

Ruber thrashed against his ropes. Veins bulged from his neck as he condemned Sinbad. "You are _not_ captain! I charged the mutiny so _I_ am the captain and _I_ decide if we – "

"And you're doing great!" Sinbad sneered. "First day on the job and captured by the Boogie Man? Round of applause everybody for Captain Ruber!"

"We cannot fathom their power!" Ruber glanced hungrily at Pitch. "Spirits from the grave? Supernatural monsters? THINK of the power we would – "

"Hopping along the ocean with an army of zombies – " Sinbad interrupted. "—is not my idea of a good time!"

"You spineless, coward, yellow-bellied – "

"And I'm not _comfortable_ -" Sinbad retorted, pointing at Pitch. "—handing my life over to a slimy-gumball-creep that popped out of a giant-ass whirlpool with his undead friends, AND who has CLEARLY missed one to many dental appointments!"

"Sinbad!" Eret and Tulio yelled. "Look out!"

Sinbad ducked. He had been fired at often enough to know ' _Look out'_ means ' _hit the deck or eat bullets.'_ But as Sinbad plunged, the projectile did not whizz over his head.

It stopped. Midair. And as Sinbad uncovered his eyes, he looked straight into a shadow before it attacked.

The shadow pulverized him. Pouncing into his head, the shadow shred Sinbad's brain for memories. His neural connections screamed, replaying the memory of his crying son. With each repetition the memory intensified. The image became palpable. Sinbad could _feel_ his son grabbing his leg. He could _feel_ wet cheeks and an open mouth when he pushed his son away. And he could _feel_ that scraggly little string of hair when his son stumbled and fell. _Oh. Right. The rat-tail. That had been Sinbad's idea. He'd forgotten._

The shadow dug deeper. It gnawed Sinbad's darkest memories and pulled them free. But Sinbad did not scream until he saw Sarah Hawkins.

 _Sarah. His wife._ _Sobbing in her nightdress. Morning light in her hair. Fire in her eyes. Hatred in her heart. Blinded in misunderstanding – ignorant of his secret. "Then go, Sinbad. If you want to leave, go. Get out! Go and never come back!"_

Sinbad heard a distant _click_. The shadow vanished. The memories stopped.

"Well. She was lovely." Pitch circled Sinbad. His hands rest calmly behind his back. "What was her name? Difficult to tell with the screaming. Facilier, did you catch it?"

Sinbad heaved onto his side. His gaze fell on the shadow. The shadow had coiled around one of the undead; a skeletal man with a skull painted on his top hat. Facilier.

Facilier breathed the shadow through his nostrils like smoke. Sinbad waited for Facilier to be possessed, but it never happened. The shadow did not attack. In fact, it was docile. Facilier was _controlling_ the shadow.

"He said…. _Sarah_." Facilier collected the shadow. It trickled between his fingers. "Am I right? Or am I right?"

Sinbad involuntarily touched his lip. _He'd spoken her name?_

" _Sarah_?" Marina scoffed. "That _slut_? You can't bribe Sinbad with _her_ – he dumped that bitch years ago."

Sinbad ignored Marina, but his scimitar suddenly felt heavy on his back.

"What is that shadow thing?" Sinbad rose. He stiffened the knock in his knees. "How does he control it? And how did the shadows get inside Charybdis?"

Pitched laughed.

"Charybdis? A little mermaid traps demons inside a magical portal, and they name it after a mythological monster."

He paused for an afterthought. "Adorable."

"Magic portal?" Warily, Sinbad scanned the shadows in the sky. "Is it okay if I say 'what the Hell?'"

"Go ahead. Why not?"

"Okay then: What the Hell? What are you talking about, magic portal? I was inside the whirlpool– I didn't see a magic portal."

"That's because…" Pitch twirled his wrist, conjuring one of the black metal shards. He regarded it tenderly. "…the magical portal is broken. The portal is broken on both ends. On one end – are the shattered remnants of a Black Cauldron."

Pitch displayed the metal shard.

"And the opposite end - " Pitch pointed above. Sinbad followed his finger to the Wishing Star, barely visible through the shadows. "— is a broken star. Yes. Both ends of the portal are broken. And interestingly enough, both were broken…"

Pitch growled. "By a _king_. A king with a magical sword."

Sinbad frowned. _King? Magical sword? Did Pitch mean…Caliburn? And if so, did that mean Pitch begrudged…_ their _king? The King of the Otherland?_

Sinbad was honestly surprised. _The King of the Otherland had destroyed a spooky cauldron and infamous star? And then he sucked them into a whirlpool of death? When? And with what army? Had he gone to Fantasia? Had he recruited the Fantasians? The King certainly hadn't done The Otherland any services. He was about as useful as an empty bag of potato chips._

Sinbad looked at his crew for help. Equally as baffled they shrugged, leaving Sinbad on his own and forsaking in his confusion.

Sinbad grumbled. _Talk about useless as an empty bag of potato chips._

"Guess it's the quiet ones you gotta look out for." Sinbad crossed his arms. "So I assume you're staking revenge on The King?"

"Yes. The king. And…" Pitch's fingers twitched. "The guardians."

"The guardians?"

"The guardians." Pitch repeated. He looked repulsed. "The guardians of The Otherworld and the guardians of Fantasia. _The Big Eight_. Ohhh…."

Pitch contorted. "You see Sinbad, the advantage of being me is that I have lived long. I am immortal – so long as there is fear. I have reigned since the dark ages. And I have made many enemies."

"Yeah." Sinbad said sarcastically. "I can see how that would be an advantage."

"The Otherworld guardians punished me first," Pitch continued. "Santa Clause, the Easter Bunny, the toothfairy, and Sandman. They chased me from under beds! They convinced children to believe there's no such _thing_ as the Boogie Man!"

"So you hate holidays – big deal." Sinbad jerked his head west. "Why body-slam the Fantasian guardians? And why kill The King?"

Pitch slowed. He met Sinbad with a dangerous smile.

"What makes you think I want him dead?"

Sinbad was too scared to answer. If he wasn't a grown man, he would have spoiled his pants.

"You asked before," Pitch breathed. "What are the shadows? Well, the shadows are just that: shadows. Shadows are extensions of souls. Shadows are the inner demon. Shadows are mankind's evil spirit. And shadows…are what men fear in _each other_."

Sinbad glanced at his shadow. It was crooked and dim in the moonlight.

"How'd the shadows get into the whirlpool?" Sinbad asked.

"The king and his guardians put them there. You see, the shadows were released from the Wishing Star."

Pitch gestured to the undead army. "With Facilier, the Shadow Worker, these villains sought to control the shadows and take Fantasia. Facilier cannot control the shadows of others directly – he can only corral them with his own. Fascinating, yes?"

Sinbad disagreed. Shadow Workers had bad reputations. But he didn't argue.

"So what? Shadows got out. Guardians and King put them back in." Sinbad looked at Captain Hook. "And you lost."

"Yes." hissed Captain Hook.

"Had your asses pressed by the Fantasian guardians."

"Correct," growled Captain Hook. "Again."

"Okay." said Sinbad. "So the story's starting to make sense. Long lost vendetta with The Otherland guardians. Fantasian guardians kick your butts. The King destroys the Black Cauldron and the Wishing Star, trapping you indefinitely in a giant underwater blender..."

Sinbad forced himself to maintain Pitch's gaze.

"So what's your objective? What's the prize? If you're not going to kill – what's your revenge?"

Pitch displayed the black shard.

"I'm going to throw the king and the guardians into the Black Cauldron…and lock them inside the Wishing Star."

It was apparent that Pitch had intended his statement to be _awe-inspiring_. The undead villains were heckling in excitement and Pitch was grinning like a goon. But it made absolutely no sense to Sinbad.

Obviously the metal shards were fragments of the Black Cauldron. Okay. So what? What happened next? Stick the cauldron back together with Duck-tape and super-glue?

Sinbad was cynical. So he asked a very logical question.

"Annnnd how are you going to do that?"

Pitch pocketed the shard.

"Very sneakily."

"Little more detail would be nice." Sinbad pointed to _The Princess_. "Especially if you want my ship. Which, by the way, is still off limits."

Pitch laughed.

"At last. Now we're getting somewhere. Here is my plan…"

Pitch paced.

"First: I need the king. And I need his magical sword. The sword is the only weapon that can destroy the Black Cauldron."

"Let me!" Ruber sang from the mast. He quivered with excitement. "Let me seize The King! I was his knight afore I was banished! I know of his quest! I know of his weaknesses! I know of his strengths! I can defeat him! I will hunt The King and bring you his magical sword!"

Pitch studied Ruber. The longer he gazed, the wider his smile grew.

"You are the mutineer. Are you not?  
"Yes!" Ruber nodded fiercely. "I lead them! I rallied in secret with Drago, Rothbart, Rasputin, Tzekel Kan, Chel, and M – "

"Disloyalty and betrayal." Pitch practically purred. "Music to my ears. Well Sir Ruber, I'll tell you what: I will send you with Maleficent. If you bring me the king's sword….I will make you king."

"WHAT?" Sinbad yelled.

"Wow." Miguel nudged Tulio. "Talk about jumping the food chain."

"Shut up Miguel!"

"You answer to me." Pitch continued over Sinbad's indignations. "And I will give you The Otherland. I will give you Fantasia."

"What a load of crap!" Sinbad protested. But the deed was done. Ruber was unofficially christened king.

" _Worst_ – " Sinbad muttered as the mutineers were released. "— _idea_ _ever_! So you kidnap The King and nab his magical sword. Then what? The guardians won't go down easy! How do you expect to tackle them? Especially the Fantasian guardians?! Fantasia is fortified like a virgin in a room full of over protected fathers!"

"Sinbad." Marina cringed. "No."

"Ah. And we come to the point of it. You see Sinbad – " Pitch grinned. "—that is why I need you. And your ship. I need you to take me to Fantasia."

Sinbad _loved_ these moments. Because these were the moments where he could throw his head back and laugh.

"BAH! Ha ha ha ha ha ha HA! _Take_ _Fantasia_? By way of _The_ _Otherland_? Are you for real? Do you have ANY idea how impossible that is?"

Before Pitch could respond, Sinbad detailed how impossible it was.

"First!" he said. "You can't go by land because they've built this Great Wall in the east! So, the eastern border is out! And you can't go by sea because this dufus merman freak - Admiral Triton – literally blows tsunamis through his nose! Plus he's got a killer right hook – I know from experience!"

"On TOP of all that!" Sinbad threw his arms. "They've got new guardians! New guardians with new powers and probably big shiny weapons that hurt upon impact! So I'll say it again – taking Fantasia is IMPOSSIBLE! We cannot get in!"

"You got in before." Captain Hook joined Pitch. "Remember _shipmate_? Maleficent and I sought to kill a little girl. And you smuggled us through _Fantasia School for the Magically Skewed_. What was it, again? A tunnel? A tunnel that emptied into an indoor swimming pool?"

"Well yah-yuh." Sinbad said. "But I was already in Fantasia! I was on the receiving end!"

"Then it _is_ possible!" Pitch glowed with exhilaration. "Delightful! You will take me to Fantasia, Sinbad. You will take me to Fantasia so I may capture the remaining individuals I need – "

"Um! Hello? Didn't say yes!"

"You will sail me to the tunnel – "

"You are NOT listening!"

"You will guide me through the entrance – "

"I seriously want to punch you!"

"And you will obey my _every_ command – " Pitch said. "— so I may have my revenge!"

"NO!" Sinbad slashed his scimitar. He had given up everything – _everything_ – for sovereignty over the seas. And everything had been lost in _one_ _second_ ; the one second he stole the seashell necklace.

Yes. Sinbad was mad. Undead army, Boogie Man, soul-sucking shadows, he didn't care – Sinbad was not surrendering.

"I – SAID – " Sinbad snarled across his scimitar. "—NO."

Pitch exchanged glances with Captain Hook. They smiled like snakes.

Gently, Pitch slithered for Sinbad.

"You loved her. Didn't you?"

The scimitar wavered. Sinbad clenched the hilt. His chest squeezed. He couldn't breathe.

"What a memory." Pitch continued. " _Rank_ with fear. I am the king of nightmares Sinbad. I was expelled by the Otherworld guardians. But I was resurrected. The whirlpool's energy catalyzed the shadows, bringing me back to life. All those shadows, all those memories, all those nightmares…churned in a magical mix? _That_ is how I am here. The whirlpool contained energy and fear _. And I will be wherever there is fear_. Just like your memory….of her."

Pitch leaned into Sinbad. He spoke airily, but his words cut.

"Your memory. _So_ full of fear, I could see it. And I must say…how _picturesque_. A young woman. An honest home. Breakfast table. Seaside window. Watery sunlight bleeding through brown hair. And…what a lovely nightgown."

"Stop it." Sinbad croaked. Barbed-wire was in his throat. "Shut up."

" _Go away, Sinbad_." Pitch whispered, reciting the memory like a script. " _Get out. Go and never come back_. Dear. Do you think she's remarried?"

Sinbad swung. "You son of a – "

The scimitar swiped air. Sinbad started. Pitch had disappeared.

"Captain Hook told me what you did."

Sinbad spun. Pitch was there.

"And I am impressed." Pitch leered. "It's not often I meet a man that breeds with a woman…and kills his son."

Sinbad staggered.

"He – " Sinbad hardened his tone. He fought a quaver, so it wouldn't betray him. "Hook told you about that. Did he?"

"He did. Again. I'm impressed. You killed your son. All because…" Pitch took Sinbad's left hand. He traced the red scar from Sinbad's finger to his wrist. "…you owed allegiance to Captain Hook."

Sinbad clenched. His scar burned.

Captain Hook had given him the scar. Sinbad had joined the _Jolly Roger_ very young. The scar had been a ceremonial wound, part of Sinbad's induction into piracy. It was the pirate's brand.

It was a mark of allegiance to Captain Hook. For life.

Until…

Sinbad squeezed his fist. Pain electrocuted his entire arm.

 _They didn't know. They didn't know he lied. They didn't know that his son…_

"I will tell you what, Sinbad. We will make a deal."

Pitch stood before Sinbad. He spoke delicately, articulating every word.

"Give me Fantasia. And I will let you save one Fantasian. Because Sinbad…I _will_ take them all."

The decree fell.

Marina sneered. "He won't! Sinbad won't! Hand over _The Princess_! Because Sinbad doesn't give a damn about that – "

"I'll do it." Sinbad seized Pitch's hand. He dug his fingernails into the cold palm. "But you let me get her out first. Then, you take Fantasia. _Deal_?"

Pitch answered with a death grip. "Deal."

"Pinkie-swear." whispered Miguel.

"Shut up Miguel!" the pirates hissed.

Thus they embarked.

Sinbad was a pirate. He had been all his life. So he felt the tides turning. He expected that they were turning for the worst. But as any seaman knows, sometimes it's futile to fight; sometimes a ship must ride with the tides. Even if they run to rough waters.

"Who are the others?" Sinbad asked.

Pitch watched Maleficent carry Ruber and Drago into the air. She had transformed into a dragon, and her massive form buried the moon from view.

"Others, Sinbad?"

"You said you needed other people _beside_ The King." Sinbad turned. "Who are they?"

Pitch did not like Sinbad's inquisitiveness. He also did not Sinbad's brash. Sinbad's sense of humor didn't tickle him either. Still, he needed Sinbad for safe passage into Fantasia. So, he told the _furtive_ truth.

"There are four." replied Pitch. Maleficent spiraled across the sky, ducking beneath the moon. Pitch smirked at the disproving man inside.

"Four to make my victory complete. Three are guardians. One is not. One I need to kill. One I need to repair the Wishing Star. And _two_ …"

Pitch rotated the metal shard. "I need to rebuild the Black Cauldron."

Sinbad noticed the shard. "Who are the two?"

Pitch pressed the shard to his lips. " _Cold and dark_. Just like a nightmare. Just like a shadow. After all…what goes better together than cold and dark?"

Sinbad could think of a number of things. _Ass_ and _hole_ being most predominant.

Glumly, Sinbad turned. He donned the seashell necklace. He tucked the pendant under his tunic.

He was about to say two of his favorite words – but his heart wasn't in it.

"Set sail?"

"Indeed. Ready your pirates, Sinbad. I'll catch up." Pitch smiled at the Wishing Star. Extending his hand, he pretended to claw a tiny northern pole, sticking from the snow. "There are four _old friends_ I want to see."

* * *

 **sultal's note:**

 **(1)Lots of messages on this one. Thank you all for asking! However...No. I'm not going to say who The King is. That is why I called him "The King" and not "King insert name here." I promise it will all make sense soon…ish! I gave clues – try word association.**

 **(2)Yes, in like 2-3 chapters we will be with Jim, Wen, Ariel, and Peter for the bulk of the story! Hang in there guys!**


	10. Chapter 10: Jelsa

**Chapter 10: Jelsa**

"...wowwwww." Jack moaned. "You gotta be kidding me."

It was official: Jack hated Fantasians.

His fall from outer space had _not_ been fun. His landing had been one hundred times worse. After the psycho-spacer shot him with the laser gun, Jack had been paralyzed. His muscles liquefied, his nerves sizzled out, and Jack fell like a rock.

It had been petrifying! The most productive thing Jack could do was pray he'd land on something soft.

He did not. Of course not, that would be too fortunate. Jack had wacked into a castle, bounced off the parapet, and crashed onto the cobblestone pavement. Frost burst from his staff when he struck, filling the street with early winter.

Needless to say Jack had a few bruises. As the paralyzing effects of the laser wore off, Jack painfully regained control of his muscles. Inspecting his skull for dents, Jack glowered at the night sky.

The Wishing Star twinkled innocently. The Man in the Moon was chuckling.

"My life..." Jack reached for his staff. "...sucks."

"Hey! Look! Snowflakes! Frost!"

Jack's heart jumpstarted; someone had shouted _look_ and _frost_ in the same sentence! Wild with hope, Jack spun on his bottom as an army of Fantasians appeared.

"Snow!" A flock of pre-teens ran to frosty perimeter. Oblivious to Jack, they started playing in the snow. "Snow in September! Maybe tomorrow we'll have a snow day!"

"This is so cool!" A girl wearing a red Hawaiian T-shirt and Bermuda shorts cupped a handful of snow. She packed it into a walnut-sized ball. "Stitch! Catch!"

"Who do you think made it?" asked a bear cub. "The snow's only right here, in this small circle. It's not falling from the sky! And it's not falling over there! It's only right here! How'd it do that?"

"Dunno Koda!" shrugged the girl. She started chasing Stitch, a blue koala-alien mutant. "Maybe it was Elsa! Nani said Elsa makes snow!"

"I don't think it was Elsa." disagreed a blonde boy. He studied the frosty cobblestone. "I think it was someone else!"

Jack turned. "Who?" he asked hopefully.

"Who?" The girl asked at the same time.

The blonde boy smiled. "It was probably Wendy."

Jack wilted. Crestfallen, he listened as the blonde boy was derided.

"Wendy?" Koda licked snowflakes from his paws. "Michael, you're just saying that cause she's your sister!"

"No!" Michael pointed. "The snow's coming from the _ground_. Not the sky! Plus –Fantasia just celebrated the first day of Fall! Maybe Wendy's happy we had a party on her birthday! Lilo –"

Anxiously, Michael beseeched the girl. "Lilo, you think it's Wendy, don't you?"

Lilo grimaced at Stitch. "Sure Michael." she forced a kind, but unconvincing smile. "Sure, of course I do. Betcha Wendy just wanted to say _aloha_."

Stitch snuffed. He waddled skeptically into the snow.

Lilo was clearly dubious. But her halfhearted encouragement seemed sufficient for Michael.

"Right." Wistfully Michael rubbed the cobblestone. "I bet she did."

Jack watched. Although he was devastated the children could not see him, something about Michael made him sadder. Michael looked so forlorn amidst his excited friends. As Lilo and Koda frolicked, Michael just stared at the cobblestone. It was almost like he was waiting (and wishing) for something to happen.

Jack grinned. Scooting aside Michael, he tapped the cobblestone with his staff.

Frost curled under Michael's fingers. The boy gasped as it twinkled into florid patterns and helical designs.

"Wendy!" Michael pressed both hands over the frost. His eyes widened. "It's her! It's really, really her—"

"Michael!" A woman called. She waved beside a young man wearing a top hat. "Michael! Come on, now! It's past midnight! The celebration's over! Time to go home!"

"Coming!" Michael stooped. Before sprinting away, he whispered into the frost. " _I miss you, Wendy. Come back soon. Love you. Bye_. John! Mama Sarah! Did you see that? Did you see that ice? It was Wendy, it was Wendy! I _know_ it was!"

"All right Michael." The woman said. She glanced dolefully at the young man. "All right. Come on boys. Let's go home."

Jack leaned on his staff. Gazing after Michael, he watched the family depart. Michael was zooming excitedly along, oblivious to the sympathetic stares. It didn't matter. Michael was happy.

Jack smiled. He hated being invisible, but sometimes it had its perks.

Congratulating himself for doing a good deed, Jack shouldered his staff and floated into the crowd. He'd never been to Fantasia. It was time to explore.

The differences between Fantasia and The Otherland were staggering. The Fantasians were... _happy_. Jack gathered that a holiday was in observance (apparently Fantasians celebrated the first of every season), but _still_ the overall milieu of the country was astoundingly positive.

Compared to The Otherland, the Fantasians almost seemed negligent in their mirth. No one carried a weapon. No one was on guard. Children skipped from their parents. Strangers bumped with no more conflict than a friendly " _How'd you do_?" Smiles were bright. Laughter was brighter. And there wasn't a monster in sight.

The Fantasians were happy. Not one of them was sad.

Except...

Jack heard someone crying. It came distantly at first, too faint to notice. But as the Fantasian's dispersed Jack heard clearer. The Otherland had trained Jack to detect suffering; his ears were mini radios tuned for grief and sorrow.

"Magical hearing." Jack wiggled a finger in his ear. "What will they think of next?"

Wind swished around his bare ankles, urging him to help. Jack scanned the skyline. The weeping was coming from above. It was coming from -

"The castle?"

Actually there were two castles, a larger superimposing a smaller. The larger castle curved around the smaller like a claw.

The smaller castle was a generic, fairytale shaped building constructed from iridescent stone. Engraved lettering in the keystone arch read FANTASIA SCHOOL FOR THE MAGICALLY SKEWED.

The second castle was _gargantuan_. Of the two, this castle was obviously the newer, because the stonework glistened marble white. It surrounded the smaller castle like a curtain of arcading arches and spiral stairs. The upmost turrets disappeared into the sky. Jack got dizzy trying to find the highest point.

As he gazed Jack realized; the crying was inside the castle. It was coming from somewhere...at the top.

Jack twirled his staff. The wind carried him aloft. Lost between the towers, Jack followed the sound of gentle sobs to a window ledge.

The ledge was slicked with ice.

Jack was confused. "Weird. I didn't make this." He ground the ice with his staff. It was thick. Very thick. "Where's this stuff coming from?"

Perplexed, Jack jumped over the window. Hanging upside-down, he peered into the room.

He found the crying person.

It was a girl. A young woman.

She was...beautiful.

For the first time in his long, lonely life, Jack Frost felt warmth. Whether it was passion, embarrassment, yearning, or thrill, Jack didn't know. And he didn't care.

He just stared.

She was stunning. Startlingly stunning. Crystal-white hair, snowy-white skin, icy-blue eyes, upturned features like the tips of a star. She reminded Jack of a snowflake – cold, crystalized perfection.

She was perfect. Even her tears sparkled. Like diamonds they dripped between her fingers and twinkled to the floor like –

"Snowflakes?"

Jack leaned closer. His nose touched the glass. It was unimaginable, but as the young woman cried her teardrops froze into snowflakes.

"How?" Jack gaped. He looked to The Man in the Moon. "Who is she? How is she doing that? If she cries snowflakes, is she like me? Can she... _see_ _me_?"

The Man in the Moon (as always) was silent. But Jack thought he saw a very small smile. An encouraging smile. Maybe.

Jack glared. Scolding himself for enquiring the moon (and making a mental note to kick the habit) he pressed a hand to the glass. As he had done for Michael, Jack decorated the window with frost.

 _Instantly_ the young woman notice. Her head turned sharply. Cheeks streaked with tears, she watched the ghostly frost cover her window.

She looked at her hands. She turned them over. Twice. Mystified, she returned to the glass.

Then she rose. Silently she approached the window.

Jack waited. He held his breath.

"See me." he whispered. His fingers, frozen on the pane, tingled. "See me. See me. See – "

The young woman stopped. Their faces were level, hers upright and his upside-down. Starlight illuminated her eyes as she stared through Jack. Her gaze was empty. Empty and unfocused.

She couldn't see him.

Jack was crushed. Heartbroken, he turned to leave.

Just then, the young woman lifted her hand. She paused, fingers hovering. Then, timidly, she spread a hand against the glass –

—directly over Jack's.

The interphase crackled. Jack was unprepared for the backlash; he gasped as the young woman's power surged through his body. Regaining his strength, Jack pushed back. Wintry magic buzzed between their fingertips, blowing like a blizzard and stinging like ice.

Both froze. Hand over hand, they felt the magic coursing between them.

Then the young woman spoke.

"Who are you?"

He trembled. "I'm...Jack."

Nothing. No reaction. She hadn't heard.

"Who," the young woman repeated. "are you?"

Jack thought. Then, flipping over his staff, he scraped letters into the frost. The young woman's eyes followed as he carved his name.

 ** _JACK_**

As an afterthought, he added:

 ** _? R U_**

The young woman tilted her head, interpreting his shorthand.

"Who am I?" she murmured.

Jack nodded, even though she could not see.

The young woman crouched. Jack expected her to scratch letters with a fingernail. She did not. Gracefully swirling a finger, she melted four letters into the frost.

 ** _ELSA_**

"Elsa." Jack read. "Elsa."

Smiling, Jack lifted his staff.

 ** _I CAN HEAR U ELSA_** he scratched **_U_ _DNT NEED 2 RIGHT_**

Jack cringed. He misspelled the word ' _write_.' Hurriedly, Jack rectified his wrong.

 ** _I MEANT_ ' _WRITE.' SRY._**

Elsa covered a smile.

"You can hear me?" she asked.

Jack scratched a **_Y_** , signifying ' _yes_.'

"And you can see me?"

Again, a **_Y_**.

"Why can't I see or hear you?"

Jack wrote an honest answer.

 ** _IDK_**

Elsa smiled. "IDK – I don't know. You don't know?"

 ** _Y_** Jack replied.

Elsa backed slightly. "That's...a little frightening. My sister would say...creepy."

Jack burst into laughter. Furiously he wrote.

 ** _I LOL'D! SHE'S RIGHT! I FEEL CREEPY! AGH! SRY!_**

It was Elsa's turn to laugh. "Well, at least you know. Creep." she added shyly.

Jack grinned. He squatted on the sill.

 ** _WHY WERE U CRYING ELSA?_ ** he etched.

Elsa's smile disappeared.

"I'm..." she shuddered away tears. "...being forced to marry."

Jack squeezed his staff so tightly it almost snapped.

 ** _WHO?_** he asked

Elsa lifted her head. Jack had the impression she was trying very hard not to cry.

"King Arthur."

"Ooooo." Jack settled. He swung a leg off the ledge. Arranged marriages were commonplace in The Otherland. Love was an outlandish (if not forbidden) concept. People didn't love in The Otherland. People made babies that grew up into mighty warriors.

 ** _SRY_** he wrote **_THAT SUCKS_**

Elsa shook her head.

"No. He's a good king. And only a little younger. He'll...he'll treat me well. But..."

Elsa smoothed her hair. Loose strands slid from her braid.

"I just feel...so..." Elsa hugged her shoulders. "...trapped."

Jack watched her cry. He glanced over the window. Frosty starbursts glistened from the place their powers had connected.

Jack fingered his staff, thoughtfully. Then, he carved a final message into the frost.

 ** _ELSA. WOULD U LIKE TO GO ON A RIDE?_**

Elsa blinked. "Where?"

Jack grinned. He twisted his staff. He unlatched the window. He glided inside...

...and took Elsa's hand.

"Anywhere." he said, guiding her onto the wind and into the night.

The next morning, Fantasian children _did_ have a snow day. As Jack and Elsa flew, magical flurries followed. Their emotions were exuberant and uncontrolled, and Fantasia was frosted like a snowcone.

Jack held Elsa close. She couldn't see him; but with their compatible powers, she could feel. Spreading her arms, Elsa suspended from Jack. Wind unraveling her hair, she pretended to fly.

Jack didn't bring Elsa back, until he saw her smile.

"Well..." Jack mused. His heart pattered as Elsa waved goodnight. It was the wrong direction – but the farewell was for _him_.

She _knew_ he existed. She _knew_ he was there.

Jack hopped merrily off the castle. Flying on his back, he gazed dreamily at the sky.

"Elsa." Jack drew her face with his staff. "Elsa...the Snow Queen."

"Well." Someone suddenly laughed. The tone was caustic, cocky...and Australian. "This is going to be easier than I thought. Fellas? Put him into the sack."

Jack spun. But the instant he turned, two Yetis stuffed a silk sack over his head. Jack kicked. The sack smelled like cookies. Gingerbread cookies.

It was Santa's toy sack.

Jack growled. Great.

Outside the sack, a six foot rabbit flexed his forearms. Tribal tattoos bugled over his fur.

The Easter Bunny smiled.

"All right fellas." Bunny nudged the sack with an enormous foot. Jack retaliated with a punch. "Take the bloody show-pony to North."

The Yetis nodded. Producing a snow-globe, they threw. The snow-globe dissolved into a magic portal that emptied into the North Pole.

With a heave-ho, The Yeti's tossed the sack. Jack's curses faded as he was sucked through the portal.

The Yetis turned to Bunny. "Dwbard urghwetee?" they asked, pointing to the portal and making room for Bunny to leap inside.

"Me?" Scathingly, Bunny laughed. "Not on your nelly. I'll see you back at the pole."

"Bwardla arghl." the Yeti's shrugged. Together they jumped, and the portal vanished.

Satisfied, Bunny grunted. After stamping his foot twice, a rabbit hole magically appeared. The hole lead to Bunny's underground tunnels – he could traverse the tunnels faster than _any_ magic portal.

Bunny secured his boomerang. But before leaving, he glanced at the Wishing Star.

"Something's wrong."

Bunny dropped into the rabbit hole. It refilled with earth and disappeared.

And in its place, sprouted a tiny pink flower.

* * *

 **...**

 **Big4girl poem:**

 ** _Ice, it's ice, but only I can control the ice, this is nice to know that now there are two but I can't see you._**

 ** _I love you all the same, but if I leave you, how will things change. I can't wait for your touch, it's brings me hope so very much._**

 _ **...**_


	11. Chapter 11: I Can Feel It! In My Belly!

**Chapter 11: I Can Feel It! In My Belly!**

Jack thumped. The sack opened. Two stubby elves peeked inside.

Jack zapped them with his staff.

"Beat it."

The genius elf ran. The average-intelligence elf wondered where the genius elf was going. Jack zapped again. The average-intelligence elf froze into a popsicle.

Angrily, Jack clamored out of the sack.

"You guys!" he announced, "Have zero concept of personal bubble space!"

Four guardians turned: North, Bunny, Tooth, and Sandy (Santa Clause, Easter Bunny, Toothfairy and Sandman). Prior to his entrance, they had been bickering beneath an enormous globe. As Jack entered North's observatory, they immediately quieted.

"AH!" North boomed. " _There he is_! Jack Frost!"

"Hi Jack!" Tooth fluttered forward. An armada of mini tooth-fairies trailed behind. "How was your trip?"

" _Da_!" North agreed, using the Russian word for ' _yes_.' He motioned to the yetis. "Hope the yetis treated you well?"

The yetis gulped. Guiltily they brushed wrinkles from Jack's hoodie.

Jack pushed them away.

"Oh yeah." He kicked his staff. It twirled up from the ground and he caught it midair. "I love being shoved in a sack and tossed through a magic portal."

Jack was being sarcastic. But North looked delighted.

"Ah good! That was my idea! Jack, you remember the group! Bunny, Tooth, and Sandy – "

"Before you say anything else!" Jack interrupted. "I'm going to say this _one last time_!"

North raise a dark brow. Bunny furrowed. Tooth bobbed nervously. Sandy dozed.

"I am not a guardian!" said Jack. "Kapeesh? You're all hard work and deadlines, and I'm snowballs and fun times. But _most_ importantly..."

Jack glared at the observatory skylight. The Man in the Moon was just visible through the clouds.

"I don't _want_ to be a guardian!" He swiped at a passing elf. "So buzz off!"

"Believe me mate, my thoughts exactly." Bunny fingered his boomerang. "Some of us don't think you're guardian material."

Tooth looked reproachfully at Bunny. Earnestly, she returned to Jack. "Jack, I don't think you understand why North called us. A few minutes ago, North saw Pitch."

Jack frowned. "Pitch? Pitch Black?"

"The Boogie Man!" North circled his beefy hands. Behind him, Sandman conjured an image of a scythe. "Pitch was here! At the North Pole! There was black sand covering the globe. And darkness in the sky! And outside there were – "

North shuddered.

"—shadows!"

"Hold on, hold on." Bunny pointed his boomerang. "I thought you said you saw _Pitch_. What do you mean black sand? And shadows? What's with the shadows?"

"Shadows!" North waved sinisterly. The mini tooth-fairies cooed. "From across the sea! Black as ink and evil as sin! Yes, my friends!"

North pound his fist.

"Pitch was _here_!"

The mini tooth-fairies twittered.

"And he is up to something bad!"

The mini tooth-fairies chirped.

" _I can feel it_ —" North insisted.

The mini tooth-fairies gasped.

Earnestly, North jiggled his paunch. "— _in my belly_!"

The mini tooth-fairies swooned.

North strode to the globe. Lights dotted the giant sphere. Each light represented a child. "I have called you here because our old enemy has risen. The children are in danger. And it is our duty to protect them."

Solemnly North appraised the twinkling lights. "Before Pitch controls them with fear. Before they stop believing. In us."

Jack heard a sad jingle. He looked down. An elf had curled sadly against his leg. It was sucking its thumb. Jack shook it away.

"Pitch? Back? I dunno, North." Cynically, Bunny leaned off the wall _._ "Pitch went out with the dark ages. We made sure of that – remember?"

North frowned. He hated when his speeches turned anticlimactic.

"I know it was Pitch! We have serious situation!" North patted his tummy. "The belly – she never lies."

"What are the shadows?" Jack asked. For once, he concurred with Bunny's skepticism. "And what's the sand? I thought Pitch Black was the nightmare king or something."

Eagerly, Sandman waved. Golden sand collected over his head and materialized into a skeletal horse. The horse started to prance.

"That's not really helping." Jack said, clueless to what Sandman was communicating. "But thanks, little man."

Sandman _hmphed_. Heatedly, he blew sand out his ears.

"Sandy is right." North continued as the image dissolved. "Pitch is a master of nightmares. The black horse – the ' _night mare'_ – is a trick. Using Sandy's dream sand, Pitch can transform dreams into nightmares!"

Sandman nodded. _Sad, but true._

"Ah! But! The shadows!" North clasped Jack's shoulders. "Pitch _exists_ with shadows – both hide under beds!"

"Pitch is almost a shadow himself." Tooth added.

"You see Jack..." Fatherly, North led Jack to the globe. "Under the bed is the most shadowy place of all! Under the bed is where shadows hide during the day, so they may scare children at night! Shadows are evil! Shadows are fear!"

"Yeah." Bunny scoffed. "And thanks to the Fantasians, Pitch got his hands on a few."

"What do you mean?" Jack asked. He thought of Elsa and Michael. "Why thanks to the Fantasians?"

Tooth quivered. "Long ago, Fantasia had guardians. Just like us. But the Fantasian guardians lived in isolation – they didn't work together. So, without the others knowing, one of the guardians taught Pitch how to use shadows."

"Yen Sid." remembered Bunny. He made air quotes. "' _Underworld_ ' guardian. Grey magic sorcerer _._ And a shadow worker."

"Manipulator of shadows." Tooth explained.

"Bloke tried to mix white and black magic like _Skittles_ and _M &Ms_." Bunny snuffed. "Tore shadows right off people and dumped them into my tunnels. Bloody old mongrel. Glad he's dead."

"The point Jack." North redirected Jack to the globe. "Is that shadows can hurt our children while they are asleep _or_ awake. Pitch can control shadows. The children of the Otherland are in danger. Jack... they will need our help."

Jack studied the globe. Perhaps he was just imagining, but it seemed several lights had extinguished.

"What about the Fantasians?" he asked.

"What?"

"The Fantasians." Jack rounded the globe. The opposite side was dark, without lights. "Fantasians have kids. Lots of them. I was just there. Oh and incidentally – "

Jack flicked his staff towards Bunny.

"—the Fantasian guardians? They're back."

Bunny dropped his boomerang. " _Excuse_ me?"

"Yup." Jack said, enjoying Bunny's reaction. "Just met two of them. One of them flies. The other one shot me."

"Lucky bastard." said Bunny.

"Guardians? In Fantasia?" Tooth looked perplexed. "Since when? One of them flies? I haven't seen anyone."

Suddenly Sandman brightened. His dream-sand morphed into a bow. But no one noticed. The image was lost in the bickering.

"You didn't see anyone because they're not there." Bunny motioned derisively at Jack. "This yo-yo's pulling a fast one on us. My tunnels sit right on top of the Underworld – there's nothing there. It's quiet as a mouse."

Sandman bounced up and down, pointing ecstatically over his head.

Still, no one saw.

North stroked his beard. "Tooth is right Jack. My reindeer fill the skies. And my yetis roam the seas. They have not seen Fantasian guardians."

"And what about Manny?" Bunny said as Sandman waved wildly for attention. "The Man in the Moon _reigns_ outer space! The last time there was an Outerworld guardian we had to kick the blighter's big fat pirate – "

"But I _saw_ them!" Jack rammed his staff. Frost slivered across the woodwork. "I can't remember the others, but the two I met were called Rat Tail and Peter Pan! They've been guardians for six –"

"Does this sound made up, or does this sound _made up_?!" sneered Bunny.

"Well maybe Jack did see something." Tooth offered weakly. "Maybe he – "

"Then why haven't we seen them?" Bunny demanded. "Tooth, _wake up_ and smell the minty-fresh breath! You remember! Fantasian guardians are pushy, stingy, meddlesome – "

 _Jingle! Jingle! Jingle! Jangle! Jingle! Jingle! Jingle! Jangle!_

They turned. Sandman had seized an elf by its hat, and was vigorously shaking its bell. When he _finally_ had their attention, Sandman dropped the elf (it fainted) and pointed over his head.

The dream-sand sifted into three shapes: a needle, a spool of thread, and a bow.

They blinked.

"Still not helping." Jack said.

Sandman slapped his forehead. Exasperated he pointed down.

"Floor?" guessed Jack.

Sandman jabbed. His sand materialized into a downward arrow to emphasize the direction.

"Deeper than the floor?" Tooth squinted. "Bunny's tunnels?"

Again, a jab downward. _Deeper_.

"Oh crikey." Bunny groaned. "Sandy, do you mean the _Underworld_?"

The golden arrow swooshed into an exclamation point. Sandman gave a thumbs up.

Jack connected the dots.

"Wait, Underworld? Peter said something about —Sandy did you see someone? In the Underworld? A _guardian_?"

Wearily, Sandman re-conjured the needle, thread, and bow. Again he nodded. _Duh._

"Yes!" Jack exclaimed. "I was right!"

"Sandy?" North frowned. "Is this true?"

"Of course it's true!" Jack said as Sandman confirmed. "There _are_ Fantasian guardians. And we can team up!"

The guardians exchanged uneasy glances.

"Jack..." Tooth began.

"We can work together!" Jack bounded to the skylight. "The guardians might be isolated, but we can _transport_ them! Peter needed me to enter the Outerworld! Together we can protect _everyone_!"

Jack thrust his staff skyward. " _Together_ we can help protect The Otherland _and_ Fantasia – "

"Whoa. Hold it skiffy." Bunny broke Jack's excitement. "We don't help Fantasians."

"What?" Jack was confused. Bunny's comment didn't make sense. "What do you mean?"

"Fantasia's not our territory." Bunny wiped his paws. "Off limits. We don't go there. And they don't come here."

Jack was incredulous. He beseeched the guardians for an explanation, but their faces told him the truth. North was glum. Tooth was morose. Sandman sadly shrugged.

Jack shook his head.

" _Why_? Fantasians have kids, and they're pretty cool. You guys get all passive-aggressive with the ' _we-love-children'_ shpeel. Why ditch the Fantasian kids?"

"Oh Jack, it's not like that. We're not excluding Fantasian children." Woefully, Tooth explained. "The Fantasian guardians _excluded_ _us_. Long ago, when things got bad, they _made_ us leave."

"They made you leave? Why'd they do that?"

"Otherland is a rotten place, mate." Bunny said bitterly. "And the Fantasian guardians blamed us. Said we weren't doing the job right. Said we couldn't defend our children. They thought if we crossed into Fantasia – "

"—then Fantasia would become like The Otherland. Cold. Dark." North glowered. "And dangerous."

"Which is kinda funny." Tooth laughed thinly. "Considering the Fantasians banished their guardians _and_ outlawed magic after that crazy war. Remember? The revolt against King Mickey?"

Bunny snorted. "Right. When they locked the shadows in the Wishing Star?"

"Yup."

"I remember." Bunny rolled his eyes. " _Real_ effective."

Jack attempted a second rally.

"But Fantasia's not like that now. The guardians are different. They're young and – "

"Jack." North templed his hands, pleading Jack to understand. "You said a guardian _shot_ you. Da?"

"Well _yeah_ but – "

"Sounds real friendly to me." Bunny turned. "Sandy?"

Sandman rubbed his cheek mournfully. Bunny was right. _Sorry Jack._

"But – " Jack thought of Elsa. If Pitch attacked Fantasia, he would get her too. Jack writhed. The thought of Pitch Black slithering beneath Elsa's bed made him sick.

"But -" Jack wrestled before deciding to speak. "But I met one! I met a Fantasian. A girl. She was – special. She had powers, _magical_ powers, like me! She controls ice and snow and – and – "

Jack burned with embarrassment. The guardians were staring as if they could see his heart somersaulting.

"—and she could feel me!" Jack blurted. "She couldn't see me and she couldn't hear me, but she could feel me when we held hands. It was weird, it was awesome, it was like our powers just fused – "

"We're not risking our necks – " Bunny interrupted. "—because some dumb Fantasian sheila melted you into slush."

Jack clenched his staff.

"Elsa is not dumb."

"Brilliant." Bunny scoffed. "He named her."

North interceded as Jack raised his staff.

"All ' _interactions'_ aside, we cannot help Fantasia. If what you say is true, and Fantasia has guardians, then _they_ will protect the Fantasian children."

Jack protested. "So you're just going to abandon –?"

"We are going to focus," North's tone was sharp as a butcher knife. "On _our_ children. The children of The Otherland."

Jack rapped his staff. "But that's not - "

Definitively, North clapped. "Case dismissed!"

"But – "

"Story over!"

Jack could have argued all night. But an imploring _shh_ from Sandman withheld further dispute. Wrathfully, Jack ripped up his hood and sulked to the window ledge. He made sure to freeze several elves along the way.

Presently Tooth joined him. She sat quietly, which was a rare mannerism but one that Jack greatly appreciated. He was too depressed for effervescent conversation. Especially if the subject was 'teeth.'

Tooth rubbed her rainbow feathers. Jack glanced from under his hood.

"You cold?"

Tooth grinned. "Well this is the North Pole." Her mini tooth-fairies shivered.

Jack folded his legs. He closed the window.

"Thanks."

Jack pressed a cheek to his staff. He glared into the snowy vista. "Sure."

Tooth regarded Jack. And a little piece of her heart cracked.

Tooth was a girl in a boys club. But she wasn't just any girl – Tooth was a fairy. It was the girliest title in the universe. And it was a title not normally welcomed in a boy's club.

But Tooth was unintimidated. Refusing to masculinize, she embraced the stereotype and exploded onto the scene. As a fairy, she symbolized beauty, passion, and ambition. Tooth brought energy when moral was low, and obsession when drive was frail.

She was a fairy. It was her true nature.

Still, Tooth was a girl in a boy's club. North, Bunny, and Sandy included her as 'one of the guys.'

But Jack _admired_ her – fairyness and all. And that was _very_ flattering. So flattering, Tooth was a little taken with Jack.

So when she next spoke, a little piece of her heart cracked.

"That girl. The Fantasian..."

Jack's grip tightened. Tooth proceeded kindly as she could.

"She sounds nice. Very nice."

"...she is."

"And she can feel you." Tooth alluded to Jack's invisibility. "That's a promising first step."

"...guess."

Tooth felt Jack's restlessness. She waited patiently for him to speak.

"Tooth?"

"Yes?"

Jack sighed into his staff. "She trusts me. Without seeing. She...trusts me."

The crack in Tooth's heart broke.

"Some people call that love Jack."

Involuntarily, Jack touched his chest.

"You think...it's possible?"

"For you?" Tooth smiled. "I think it's impossible."

The mini-tooth fairies swayed lovingly as Jack hugged Tooth.

"Tooth?" Jack squeezed.

Tooth squeezed back. "Yes?"

Jack released. Kicking the window, he leapt into the wind. "Tell them I'll be in Fantasia!"

"Jack? Jack Frost - stop!" Bunny, North, and Sandman raced to the sill. They gawked as Jack soared away. "What did he say? Where is he going?"

Tooth winked at her mini fairies.

"Who?" she asked innocently.

* * *

 **...**

 **Big4girl poem:**

 _ **Ice and Snow here we go two frozen hearts not so cold. We show the world the beauty in us, keeping children happy the way it is and was.**_

 **...**


	12. Chapter 12: Lady Amalthea

**Chapter 12: Lady Amalthea**

"So...I hear you're 100."

Toothless snorted. Even _he_ knew Hiccup's comment was poor taste.

But The King was not insulted. In fact, he seemed fairly amused.

"Actually..." The King replied "...I am 119. This forest is 100. I was nineteen years old when I met my lady. And I was nineteen- " he gestured absently overhead. "-when I made this."

Hiccup looked up. The King's statement had been flippant; he hardly seemed impressed with their surroundings. But Hiccup was. He was utterly awed.

They had entered Avalon. Schmendrick and Master Emrys had disbanded the magical barrier (Schmendrick accidentally turned several trees into lollipops). The company had melted into the enchanted forest, and the quest continued. The wizards trailblazed ahead. Hiccup and Toothless took residence by The King (Hiccup on Toothless and Toothless on foot). And Sir Lionel monitored silently behind.

Avalon was the _quintessential_ enchanted forest. However, being from Berk (a place affectionately nicknamed 'The Armpit of the Otherland'), Hiccup was none the wiser. He had never been in an enchanted forest. And he was spellbound. The trees were silver. The leaves were gold. Just about everything sparkled (including the fairies and fireflies). And with each breath, Hiccup felt the air purifying his soul.

Hiccup had to admit: The King was a lousy sovereign. But he _sure_ knew how to make a kick-ass enchanted forest.

"Oh. 119 years old?" Hiccup squeezed his knees, signaling Toothless to wait for The King. "Hear that's a good year."

"Is that what you hear?" The King laughed wryly. "Well, I hope so. The previous years have been ...unproductive."

"Still!" Hiccup insisted, uncomfortable with The King's allusion to his failed kingship. "119? You look good. Keep up with the Wheaties."

The King laughed - openly and without irony. Bashfully, Hiccup smiled. He was glad The King could take a joke.

The wizards glowered over their shoulders. Master Emrys demanded to know what the _confounded_ merriment was all about, and if it was it _really_ necessary? The King apologized and assured Master Emrys it would not happen again. Master Emrys wagged a finger. The King winked back. Composure regained, he returned to Hiccup.

"Well thank you, Hiccup." The King said. "That was quite a compliment. But I suspect living with wizards has had a youthening effect. Master Emrys lives backwards, after all."

Hiccup watched as The King cut across a rocky rivulet. His feet barely grazed the water. He was a spry old gentlemen.

"Still." Hiccup repeated. "119 and still going strong? You gotta be doing _something_ right."

The King kicked reeds from his boots, clearly self-criticizing. "Hm."

"Come on slowpokes! No lollygagging!" Master Emrys' called. He was jogging at a ferocious pace. "We're making good tracks! Good tracks! Come on! Hop, hop, hop it!"

"Your Majesty." Sir Lionel ascended the riverbank. "The moon is high. It is almost time."

Moonbeams scattered through the treetops and freckled The King's nose.

"Yes." The King touched his empty scabbard. "It is almost time. But, we must find Amalthea first."

"Amalthea?" Hiccup reared Toothless. "Who's Amalthea?"

"Amalthea," The King replied. "Is my lady."

"Your lady? You mean _the_ lady?" Hiccup leaned over Toothless. "They lady you saved? The lady you scarified Caliburn? The lady you protected? The lady you gave the kingdom for?"

The King lifted his voice. "I see you have been storytelling with Sir Lionel."

Sir Lionel genuflected. "My apologies, Your Majesty."

"It's just as well."

"But is that _her_?" Hiccup pressed as Toothless whinnied. "Is Amalthea her?"

"Yes. Lady Amalthea - " The King sighed longingly "- _was_ mine."

"Was?"

"Was." The King whispered. "Long ago. Our last parting was bittersweet. Amalthea forbade me to make Avalon. But, with enemies at left and enemies at right devouring my lady with wicked intent -"

The King closed his eyes. He clenched the empty scabbard.

"Well. I made Avalon anyway."

Toothless whistled low. Hiccup agreed.

"I bet."

"And you would bet - " The King said. "-correctly."

"So..." Hiccup deduced. "... you think that Lady Amalthea will be mad? You think she'll be upset you made Avalon?"

The King sighed.

"She might." He admitted. "She might not. In any case - I am an old man, Hiccup. I have aged 100 years. I am different than I once was. I would never force a lady against her will. Therefore, the _decision_ to have me is Lady Amalthea's..."

The King finished softly. "...and not mine."

Toothless whimpered. He licked The King's fingers. The King acknowledged with a gentle stroke.

Hiccup rubbed his chest. The torment was killing The King. It was eating him alive. Inside the old man Hiccup saw a nineteen year old boy. A nineteen year old boy poisoned with self-loathing and tortured by an ambiguous romance. He had sacrificed and he had endured. And should his lady refuse him, The King would sacrifice again. But would he endure? Hiccup wondered.

"Your Majesty?"

"Yes, Hiccup?"

Hiccup reached a hand. Meekly, he drew it back.

"You kinda love her. Don't you?"

The King turned.

" _Kinda_? Oh Hiccup. Oh, dear boy..."

The King straightened. And his next soliloquy, although it was hardly a stanza, Hiccup would never forget.

"Love is not _kinda_ , Hiccup. Love is not _sometimes_ , or _if when_ , or _once_. Love is _enduring_ , _forever_ , and _all_. There is no intermediate. There is no inbetween. There is no hesitation. There is no regret. One either loves or one does not."

The King smiled. "Yes Hiccup." he said. "I _kinda_ love her."

"Good." whispered a voice. "Because I _kinda_ love you."

A lady emerged. A lady so beautiful and pale, she could have passed for moonlight. Her hair was alabaster. Her face was a pearl. Her eyes were violets.

Her gaze was for The King.

Hiccup knew she was the Lady Amalthea before The King uttered her name, and sunk to his knees. Whether The King knelt for deference, weakness, adoration, or fear was unclear. Regardless, he humbled to his lady.

Lady Amalthea approached. Gracefully, she lowered before The King. For a moment they were mirrored, his eyes downcast and hers uplifted.

Then Lady Amalthea brushed The King's hair. She smiled. A little laugh.

"It's...white." he said, feeble with humor.

"It becomes you." she replied.

"I am - " The King choked. "-an old man."

"Not older than I." she said.

"And - " The King bowed, ashamed. "-not a king."

Lady Amalthea cupped his chin. She pressed their foreheads together.

"I did not take you as a king." She drew him to her lips. "I took _you_."

In that moment, the moment that The King reunited with his lady, Hiccup understood. He understood The King's reason for surrendering his kingdom. He was in love. And should the past repeat itself, Hiccup would give The King his full support. He would even drive Caliburn into the heart of Avalon himself.

Caliburn.

"Caliburn." Hiccup murmured to Sir Lionel. "Where is Caliburn?"

Lady Amalthea heard. She looked. Calmly, she leaned into The King's ear.

"A dragon."

"Oh yes. Yes." The King rose. Beaming, he helped his lady to her feet. They squeezed hands before addressing the company.

"Lady Amalthea. Please...meet Toothless the Night Fury."

Lady Amalthea was gracious. "Toothless."

Toothless fussed. He peeked under his wing. _Pretty lady._

"And..." The King nodded meaningfully at Hiccup. "...his trainer."

"A _dragon_ _trainer_." Lady Amalthea stepped forward. She was fascinated with Hiccup as he was with her. "Of the prophesy?"

"Yes! Yes! We believe so!" Master Emrys rapped his wand. "And _speaking_ of the thing - we _really_ should be off! Fiddle-faddle you've kissed and smooched! Nuff is enough! Come, come, make haste! Lead on to Caliburn! Lead us to the Lady of the Lake!"

Lady Amalthea smiled.

"Pleasant to see you Emrys."

The wizard grumbled. "Hello, hello."

"You look well."

"Always look well. Eat like a horse."

"Where is your owl?"

"Him? That pinhead? Oh he's gone!" Master Emrys spoke gruffly. But he gazed sadly at an imaginary owl perched on his shoulder. "He's gone where all educated owls go - Educated Owl Heaven. Big library in the sky chalk full of bird droppings. Nope! No more owl!"

"You have a student instead." Lady Amalthea observed.

"Yes. For the time being. Schmendrick - " Master Emrys thumped Schmendrick's ribs. "-say hello to an old friend."

"Hello old friend." Schmendrick obeyed, massaging his ribs.

"And while we're at it - " Master Emrys swicked his wand at Sir Lionel. "Meet Sir Lionel: Trusted knight and dear friend to The King. Lionel - do your chivalrous nonsense. "

"It is an honor, My Lady." Sir Lionel respectfully touched his chest. "His Majesty spoke of you often."

"Gibber gabbger jibber jabber! _Allllll_ _right_!" Master Emrys wiggled his wand. "Amalthea! Let's get on with this Caliburn business! To the Lady of the Lake - if you please?"

Lady Amalthea took The King's hand.

"This way." she said.

"Who's that?" Hiccup asked as they followed Lady Amalthea into the forest. "Who is the Lady of the Lake? And what is the prophecy?"

Sir Lionel ducked under boughs. Fairies flittered across the path.

"The Lady of the Lake a magical creature. She has been guarding Caliburn for 100 years. We are going to retrieve Caliburn from her."

Hiccup grinned, unable to contain his excitement. Joyously, he patted Toothless. _They were close. They were one step closer to achieving peace._

"What about the prophesy?" Hiccup asked. "What does it say?"

"That I do not know. I have not heard the prophesy in full. However..." Sir Lionel tapped Hiccup's peg leg. "I do know this: _You_ are in it."

Hiccup gasped. " _Me_?"

Toothless pranced. _They were so special!_

* * *

 **...**

 **Big4girl poem:**

 _ **No matter how old, how weak, how strange, I will love you and that will never change.**_

 _ **My love, my dear, the apple of my eye, when you are with me, I can fly.**_

 **...**

* * *

 **sultal's note: Lady Amalthea, again not an OC. She is a character from "The Last Unicorn." So is Schmendrick.**


	13. Chapter 13: Story Explosion

**Chapter 13: Story Explosion**

"Odette." Lady Amalthea called. "Odette."

The summon faded. They waited. Nothing happened.

"Okaaay." Hiccup muttered from the corner of his mouth. "Sir Lionel? We sure this is the right lake?"

Lady Amalthea had escorted them to a glade. It was a rocky area, straddled by waterfalls and opened to the sky. The glade was depressed. Cupped in its center was a lake. Although the lake was filled by waterfalls, the water was not turbulent. Oddly, the surface shimmered like glass.

The journey had been dark, but not dismal. As The King and Lady Amalthea reacquainted, they began to flirt. The flirtation was subtle, but _incredibly_ entertaining. Lady Amalthea gently swayed their hands. The King swung more enthusiastically. Lady Amalthea cast delicate glances. The King, unable look away, wacked into a tree.

It was so cute. Everyone thought so. Even Master Emrys felt warm and fuzzy. He stopped snapping at Schmendrick. He even started to hum. " _Ba bum bump bump...like day and night...that's what makes the world go round..._ "

Shamelessly, Hiccup admired the pair. He wondered how The King and Lady Amalthea had interacted 100 years earlier. But after speculation, Hiccup decided their relationship probably hadn't changed. Lady Amalthea was the epitome of grace, which The King complimented with slight awkwardness.

They were charming; and they were clearly infatuated. Hiccup could have watched them forever. He was almost disappointed when they reached their destination.

Accessing the lake was the hardest part of the journey. The glade was patrolled by three talking animals: a puffin named Puffin, a turtle named Speed, and a frog named Jean-Bob. Puffin was a military lieutenant; Speed was an Olympic swimmer; Jean-Bob thought he was a prince; and all three were not happy to see them. They had been commissioned to protect the Lady of the Lake, and they were _not_ afraid of a few stinky wizards and a fire breathing dragon.

 _Too bad. So sad. So there. Beat it._

Unsurprisingly, Puffin, Speed, and Jean-Bob needed convincing. A lot of convincing. However, following a kiss from Lady Amalthea (The King raised a brow), Jean-Bob granted them entry. They approached the water's edge. And Lady Amalthea called Odette - the Lady of the Lake.

But Odette did not appear.

"The moon is high." Sir Lionel looked between the lake and sky. The moon was so bright it underwhelmed the stars. "Only moonlight can reveal the Lady of the Lake. She _should_ be here."

Sir Lionel implored The King. "Your Majesty?"

The King pondered. Contemplatively, he rubbed Lady Amalthea's hand. Then, making a silent decision, he strode into the lake.

"Odette." he called. " _I am here_."

Moonlight condense into molten gold. But as it gathered, the luminous water sprouted upward. Ribbons of yellow, violet, and blue swirled into a glimmering veil.

Then the water drizzled. It fell like rain as a woman rose from the lake.

The woman was slender as a swan. And in her hands, she held a sword.

"The Lady of the Lake." Entranced, Hiccup gazed at the sword. " _Caliburn_."

As if she could hear, Odette hefted the sword. The blade sliced across the moonlight.

Hiccup swore a solitary note sounded as Caliburn cut the air.

Caliburn was...beyond belief.

Before training dragons, Hiccup was a blacksmith. He understood sword anatomy and valued a beautifully crafted sword.

And Caliburn _was_ a _beautifully_ crafted sword. Blade to hilt, point to pommel - Caliburn was flawless. Hiccup ached to wield it, to gauge its balance, to defend a thrust. He _was_ a Viking after all: swordsmanship was in his blood.

Master Emrys broke the silence. Hiccup felt the wizard's hand on his back.

"Odette. We have come with the dragon trainer."

Master Emrys nodded at The King. " _It is time_."

Odette smiled. Water rippling behind her, she approached. With every step, Odette sang a very familiar song. Hiccup listened. He recognized it. The song was a nursery rhyme: _Twinkle Twinkle Little Star._

 _"Twinkle, twinkle little star,_

 _How I wonder what you are._

 _Up above the world so high,_

 _Like a diamond in the sky._

 _Twinkle, twinkle little star,_

 _How I wonder what you are."_

Suddenly, the song changed. The lyrics reassembled into mysterious rhymes. As Odette continued, Hiccup realized: she was reciting the prophesy. The prophesy in which _he_ was mentioned.

Hiccup clung to every word. But in his transfixion, he failed to notice that the darkness was building. Enraptured, he listened.

 _"Twinkle, twinkle little star,_

 _Shine upon an ancient scar._

 _Two lands, both angry brothers,_

 _Laugh as one kills the other._

 _Twinkle, twinkle little star,_

 _Watch them perish from afar."_

 _... ... ..._

 _"Twinkle, twinkle little light,_

 _Crippled dragon lost in flight._

 _A second cripple will train,_

 _So the sword may be reclaimed._

 _Twinkle, twinkle little light,_

 _Peace lies in furious night."_

Hiccup's insides lurched. Sir Lionel smiled as Toothless fidgeted.

"That was you." the knight said.

Odette continued.

 _"Twinkle, twinkle little star,_

 _Hatred stains black as tar._

 _All for one, and one for all,_

 _United: stand. Divide: fall._

 _Twinkle, twinkle little star._

 _Embrace in full what you bar."_

 _... ... ..._

 _"Twinkle twinkle little light,_

 _This sequel pulls on your plight._

 _The break that once was amend,_

 _Will and_ must _be broken again._

 _Twinkle, twinkle little light,_

 _Spitting through the darkest night."_

Odette paused. Standing before The King, she recited the final verse.

" _Twinkle, twinkle little star,_

 _Then is near, future is far._

 _To stall evil and peace mend,_

 _Past must be present again._

 _Twinkle, twinkle...little thing_..."

Time froze. Hearts stopped. No one moved.

Odette offered Caliburn to The King.

 _"Hail the_ Once _and_ Future _K_ \- "

"LOOK OUT!"

A dragon smashed from the sky, cracking the stone. The glade split and water gushed into a bottomless pit, wrenching Odette into the current. The King tore into the water , Sir Lionel at his heels. But before they could save her, two pirates darted under the dragon and attacked.

The first pirate seized Caliburn. The second decapitated Sir Lionel with a strike aimed for The King.

Hiccup and Toothless reacted without consent. Like two hands of a clock, they leapt into the battle. Toothless sliced upward, flying with Hiccup operating his prosthetic tail.

The battle was blinding. Dragon fire - acid green - exploded into Hiccup as the wizards shot blue magic behind. Master Emrys flung the pirates aside with sparkling tidal waves. As The King avenged Sir Lionel, the wizards gathered Lady Amalthea and Odette. Lady Amalthea ran for The King, but Schmendrick forced her back.

"It's too dangerous!"

"Let go!"

"My lady!" Schmendrick pleaded, dodging dragon fire. "Please! Come this - "

" _Let go_!"

"Schmendrick!" Master Emrys bellowed, magic spewing from his wand. "The spell! Send them someplace safe!"

Schmendrick wrestled with Lady Amalthea. "But Master - "

"Schmendrick!" Master Emrys slashed a blue flame. "NOW!"

"ALAKA - " Schmendrick panicked. Magic bubbled uncontrollably from his hands. "ZAAAAAMAH!"

 _POW!_

Blue magic cascaded from the apprentice wizard. The spell sliced into Lady Amalthea, Odette, and Master Emrys. Horrified, Hiccup watched as the Lady Amalthea transformed into a unicorn; Odette turned into a swan; and Master Emrys...dissolved. He completely disappeared.

The magic ruptured, pitching Lady Amalthea's and Odette's transfigured bodies. Hiccup searched through the blaze. Neither the ladies, Master Emrys, nor Schmendrick could be found. They were gone.

The glade blistered and burned. Hiccup didn't know who to fight or which way to turn.

So, he attacked the dragon.

"Come on Bud!"

Hiccup kicked. Instantaneously, Toothless responded. Plasma blast burning inside him, Toothless dove for the dragon, flying faster and faster -

The dragon fired. Toothless jack-knifed through green flames. Hiccup flung helplessly from his saddle. Without Toothless to ride, and without Hiccup to pilot - the two plunged.

Hiccup slammed into the lake. Although water absorbed the impact, lights popped behind Hiccup's eyes as he hit rock. Head pounding, he scrambled upright.

"Toothless!" Hiccup staggered through the rushing tides. Wildly, he searched through his helmet. "Toothless! Tooth - _no_!"

It happened fast. So brutally fast.

To Hiccup's left was The King. He was cornered by the dragon. He was fighting the two pirates. It was a losing battle. And Hiccup knew, he could see. The King would meet defeat.

But to Hiccup's right was Toothless. Whimpering like a puppy. Begging for help. Slipping into the bottomless pit. And without Hiccup... unable to fly.

Hiccup had one second.

He had one second to save The King, The Otherland's only hope...

...or his best friend.

Hiccup choked.

He breathed.

And he ran for Toothless.

"Bud!" Hiccup ripped through the water. "Toothless hold on!"

Toothless cried. He scampered for the edge.

"Toothless!"

A shadow covered Hiccup's path. The dragon swooped overhead and plunged.

Hiccup stumbled. The dragon clawed. Hiccup pushed upright. The dragon gouged his mouth. Hiccup stumbled again.

"Toothless!"

Toothless lost hold.

"Toothless!"

Toothless started to fall.

Hiccup lunged. He reached -

"Bud -"

The dragon crashed over Hiccup's shoulders. The pit shattered.

Toothless dropped. And disappeared.

"TOOTHLESS!" Hiccup screamed. "TOOTHLESS! TOOTH - "

The dragon shrieked. Savagely, it hurled Hiccup across the glade. Hiccup struck rock. He staggered and collapsed. But before losing consciousness, Hiccup thought he saw the dragon laughing as it twisted into a horned lady.

Maleficent cackled.

She stopped cackling when she saw The King.

" _This_? Who is _this_?"

Ruber snarled. He seized The King's hair and yanked.

"Look at his face!" Ruber tilted Caliburn under The King's jaw. Drago shoved, forcing The King at Maleficent. "Behold! This is The King!"

" _This_ ," Maleficent sneered. " _Is an old man_! The king - the king that pulled Excalibur from the stone- _is a boy_!"

"A boy may grow into an old man." The King raised defiant eyes. "And a magical sword may have many names...Maleficent."

Maleficent smoldered.

"Trickery!" she hissed. "This is a trick! The Fantasians gave Excalibur to this imposter, to fool you! They have fooled you, to protect the real king!"

"A moment." Ruber lifted Caliburn. "This _is_ the magical sword? Caliburn? Is it not?"

"Yes!" Maleficent waved. "That is Excalibur!"

"But this..." Ruber rest Caliburn on The King's chest. "...is not your king?"

" _No_." Maleficent curled her lip. "The king is a _boy_."

Ruber smiled.

"Well then - "

He stabbed.

The King gasped as Caliburn crunched through his heart...

...and vanished.

"The sword!" Drago spun, searching. "The sword! It's gone!"

"N...no!" Ruber looked at The King. He growled. Viscously he kicked. The King flipped, blood spurting from his nose.

"Where is the sword?" Ruber demanded.

"The wizards!" Maleficent thrust her scepter. "The wizards have bewitched the sword! Find them! Follow them! And I..."

Maleficent shifted into a dragon. "...will share your failure with Pitch."

The threat was received. As Maleficent departed, Ruber and Drago fled desperately after the wizards. They were gluttonous men, and hungry for power. Pitch promised to gratify their desires in exchange for a magical sword; so, Caliburn must be found. It did not matter how many died. In fact - the more the merrier.

Ruber and Drago left. They quickly uncovered and stalked Schmendrick's trail.

The King remained. He lay shrouded in starlight, rapidly dying.

It was then, that Hiccup woke up.

And it was then, the story exploded.

* * *

 **...**

 **Big4girl poem:**

 ** _Dragons are dangerous, fiery and rude. But there is one that is easily cooed._**

 _ **Toothless his name, let him fly free, Hiccup and toothless, just simply meant to be.**_

 **...**


	14. Chapter 14: The Call

**Chapter 14: The Call**

"Toothless!"

Hiccup stumbled, blood running into his eyes. The lake was an empty basin now, all the water had drained into the pit. Hiccup slipped on the wet rock as he screamed for his dragon.

"Toothless! Bud! Toothless! _Hear me_! _Come on_!" Hiccup sobbed into the pit. His tears fell, but Hiccup could not see the bottom. Desperately he searched. But Toothless was nowhere in sight. Toothless had plunged under the earth, because Hiccup had not been there to help him fly.

His dragon was gone.

"Bud!" Hiccup screamed. His voice popped like dynamite. "Toothless! Please! _Someone_!"

"...hiccup."

Hiccup turned.

"Your Majesty!"

Hiccup ran to The King. He saw the wound left by Caliburn; a hole through The King's chest passing back to front. Tears streaming, Hiccup pressed a fist inside the hole. Blood pooled to his wrist. Tissue squelched. Visceral heat burned his skin. Broken ribs scratched his knuckles.

But Hiccup could not feel a heartbeat.

The King was dying.

The King coughed. Blood regurgitated from his punctured lungs. Hiccup grimaced. He wiped the blood.

"It's okay..." Hiccup wept. He knew it was a lie. "It's okay Your Majesty. It's okay. I'll find your lady. I'll get help. I'll – "

"...fantasia."

Hiccup leaned. "What?"

The King coughed again. Blood sprayed. Painfully he breathed. "...fantasia."

"Fantasia?" Hiccup grasped The King's hand. "Fantasia? Fantasia did this?"

Gradually The King's grip softened.

"...go." he said, weakly removing Hiccup's hand. "...go."

Hiccup blinked, clearing away tears. He touched The King's brow.

"I will fix this." Hiccup vowed. "I _promise_ – there will be peace."

The King smiled. "...go."

Hiccup obeyed. He ran blindly, heart dragging under his feet.

The King remained. But not for long. His time – in _this_ time – was ebbing.

And it was strange. So very strange.

The King's life had been magically extended. He'd been unbothered by the ills of old age, and blessed with the most valuable possession of all: time. But for 100 years, The King existed inside a curse. With Caliburn, he struck the blow that killed his kingdom. He was disgraced by his subjects, and haunted by their murdered children. His 100 year rule would be remembered in shame.

And these sins, these _horrendous_ sins, were committed for a lady that he could never love.

It was so, _so_ strange.

The King looked to the stars. Tears welled in his baby blue eyes.

Then he saw The Wishing Star.

And he remembered.

Weakly, the King laughed. He choked, coughing blood, trying to breathe. It hurt. So much.

Life is curious. Time is odd. And together, they are impossible to fathom. Because, The King had ruled for 100 _worthless_ years; so who would have _ever_ imagined that the moment before his death, The King would make a final decree -

\- that would change everything. Forever.

The King found the Wishing Star. He smiled.

And as his soul lifted to heaven, The King thought of four names...

...and _called_.

"... _peter_... _ariel_... _wendy_... _jim_."

* * *

 **...**

 **Big4girl poem:**

 _ **I have been chosen, I'm learning to fly, the world has taken me away, so please don't cry.**_

 _ **I choose you to be strong, so please don't you cry, Even if heaven goes on for miles, death can't kill love, just delay it for a little while.**_

 **...**


	15. Chapter 15: Dragon 1: Wendy 0

**Chapter 15: Dragon 1: Wendy 0**

"All right. On the count of three. _One_... _two_... _three_ \- "

POWPOWPOWPOWPOWPOWPOWPOWPOWPOWPOWPOWPOW!

Wendy, Vinny, Fawn, and B.E.N. vaulted backwards. They slammed into the cavern, four in a row. The cavern shook. Stalactites crumbled. Rubble dumped over their heads.

And the pixies cheered.

Wendy was _not_ having a good day. In fact, she was rather cranky. Her nightmares were worse than ever, and in two days she'd hardly slept. When she _did_ sleep (10 minutes here, 15 minutes there), she woke up so nauseous she couldn't eat. Her stomach was growling; Her head was pounding; And Wendy was _particularly_ irritated when Tinkerbell called her 'an old maid' to celebrate her late birthday. _Charming Tinkerbell. Very witty._

On top of everything, Wendy had just been trounced by a dragon. But not just any dragon. According to Fawn (her animal specialist), this dragon was a night fury. And according to the night fury's reaction, he was hopping mad. The dragon took one look at Wendy and bombarded the cavern with plasma torpedoes.

Thus, Wendy was _not_ having a good day.

"Wow-za!" B.E.N. popped from the debris. "Is _he_ mad!"

"That..." Fawn winced, holding her back. "Could have gone a lot smoother!"

"Badda-boom." Vinny agreed. He lay spread eagle. He refused to move.

Wendy picked herself from the rubble. Removing her goggles, she glared across the cavern walls.

The pixies had assembled in amphitheater-like seating. They were on lunchbreak, and had decided to watch Wendy try her hand at dragon training. Dragon training was Wendy's newest pursuit, and it was hilarious.

All the pixies were cheering. Some were laughing. Most brought snacks. Tinkerbell waved a sign.

 **DRAGON 1: WENDY 0**

" _Lovely_." Wendy muttered as Peter's shadow chuckled at the sign. "The idea..."

Hands on hips, Wendy glanced. The aforementioned _dragon_ had retreated, but he was snarling. Wendy did not speak dragon, but she was certain his comments were vulgar.

"Do it again!" Tinkerbell and Vidia tossed popcorn at the dragon. "Blast them again!"

Popcorn bounced. Confused, the dragon spit plasma flames. The pixies hooted. They threw more junk food.

Wendy was horrified. "No, don't do that he's - ohhhhhh!"

Wendy marched furiously to her hat. She grabbed the bowler and stuffed it on her head.

"When will they learn!?" she snapped, returning to Vinny, Fawn, and B.E.N., "This is _not_ a game! Dragons are living things! Not monsters! And _certainly_ not entitled to public humiliation for the purpose of cheap amusement and - "

"Well that living thing," said Fawn. "Just kicked our butts. And I'm pretty sure he wants to eat them too."

The shadow looked at the dragon. It covered its rump.

Wendy frowned at the pixies. When the jeering settled, she joined her co-workers at the rubble barricade. Together, they spied.

The night fury was gorgeous. Savage, but gorgeous. His body was slender, sleek, and plated with black scales. He reminded Wendy of an eel - an eel with retractable razor teeth and killer plasma flames.

Wendy bit her lip. Training dragons was hard, but this dragon was especially challenging:

He was _mean_.

Typically, dragons of the Underworld were peaceful. Lazy even. The Underworld dragons only became hostile when thieves stole their gold (Flynn Rider tried it once. Wendy spent a month cleaning up after his mess).

But the night fury was viscous. He'd been found in an unexcavated tunnel (trapped), and almost ate the Seven Dwarves when they set him free. Doc had panicked, Wendy had been notified, and the rest was dragon training history.

Wendy pitied the night fury - especially when the pixies teased him. But, that was no excuse. She understood that the dragon was threatened- that was one thing. However, eating her dwarves - well that was another. Wendy would _not_ allow the dragon to ravage the Underworld.

"All right." Wendy crouched. Peter's shadow slithered under her belly. She brushed it away. This was no time for games. "All right. Vinny. Fawn. B.E.N. - clearly that didn't work."

Fawn twitched a wing. "Ya think?!"

"Fawn?" Wendy asked. "What type of fire was that? It was sort of blue."

"Plasma." Fawn said. She glowered at Vinny. "And thanks to the ' _dynamite expert_ ,' I dropped my bucket of lemon water. Lemon water - it's the only way to douse a plasma blast!"

Vinny swished his moustache. Vinny was Italian. Fawn was a pixie. The two species should never mix; they argued like cats and dogs.

Wendy spoke before Vinny could retaliate.

"Vinny. If we tried to recapture the dragon, could you deflect the plasma blast?"

Vinny shrugged. "I could-a deflect it if I had like 200 deflectors. Problem is I only got like..." he counted on his fingers. "...ten."

"So no?" Wendy confirmed.

"Big-a fat no." Vinny said.

The shadow rolled its eyes.

Wendy drummed her fingers. As the pixies catcalled, she studied the dragon.

"Hm."

" _Hm_? _Hm_ what?" Fawn searched Wendy's face. "Was that _Hm I'm displeased_ ; _Hm an idea_ ; or _Hm this tea is fantastic_?"

Wendy let the stereotype slide.

"Don't you think it's curious the dragon hasn't tried to fly?" Wendy pointed opportunistically as the dragon flopped after a pixie. "See? _There_! The dragon jumped and fell. That's terribly curious. After all it has wings."

"Maybe it's malfunctioning!" suggested B.E.N.

"Perhaps." replied Wendy.

"Maybe the wings are just decorative." said Fawn.

Wendy shook her head. "I don't think so."

"Or maybe itsa one of _those_ dragons." Vinny tapped his nose. " _You know._ The DWF a-type. _Drinking While-a Flying_."

Wendy and Fawn exchanged looks. _Oh Vinny. One too many dynamite explosions to the head._

"Well that's...less likely." Wendy returned to her observation. "But worth consideration. Thank you Vinny, I'll keep it in mind."

Vinny gave an expert nod. He _knew_ a tipsy dragon when he saw one!

"Still." Wendy scowled as pixies pelted the dragon with food. "This dragon reminds me of Jim. A little. When I first met Jim, he acted like this."

"Ferocious and fire breathing?"

"No, no. Look." Wendy pointed as the dragon coiled against the cavern. "He's not attacking. He's on the defensive. When I met Jim, I um...well I _accidentally_ punched him."

"So?" Fawn said.

"Well, Jim _let_ me punch him. Then later, he hit me back."

"Like-a the dragon." Vinny splayed his fingers. "We punched the dragon, and it badda-boomed us back."

"Exactly." said Wendy. "So now it's even. We're at a stand still. Just as Jim and I were."

Fawn looked unconvinced. "Okay? So then what happened?"

Wendy recollected "Then...we just..."

She considered. She watched the dragon. Then, Wendy hopped over the rubble and out of hiding.

"Wendy!" Fawn grabbed and missed. She squeaked as Wendy approached the dragon. "B.E.N.! Vinny! Do something!"

"Me?" Vinny pushed Fawn. They started catfighting. "You first!"

"Well I can't!" B.E.N. exclaimed. "I don't like dragons! Metal melts!"

The shadow huffed. _It always had to save the day!_ Disgusted, it flew after Wendy.

"Shadow stay!" Wendy ordered. "Just stay there. Just let me try...hello..."

The dragon had spotted her. Its eyes narrowed into green slits.

Slowly Wendy retracted her needle. She displayed open palms. "See? No weapons. It's all right. I'm - "

Wendy stopped. The pixies quieted as the dragon snarled. Plasma glowed against its teeth.

"I'm not going to hurt you..." Wendy stepped delicately. The dragon's head revolved, following her course. Then, it crept after her.

Wendy halted. But the dragon did not. It circled. With every pass behind her, Wendy felt the dragon creeping in.

Wendy resisted the urge to run. "I'm just like you...I'm scared too..."

The dragon growled.

"... _very_ scared."

"Wendy!" Fawn hugged Vinny. "Wendy, get out of there! The dragon's going to attack - "

"No - " Wendy insisted, more to herself than Fawn, "Not yet. Just give it a moment to...oh dear."

The dragon crouched. It aimed itself at Wendy like spring ready to snap.

Wendy did not move.

"Easy..." she breathed. "I'm not...going...to hurt -"

Tinkerbell got bored. She grabbed Rosetta's soda can and threw.

The soda can pegged the dragon's snout.

The pixies cheered as the dragon lunged.

"All right! Sorry! All right!" Frantically, Wendy backpedaled. The dragon charged. She tripped, slamming into the cavern wall. Heart racing she scrambled crab-style along the edge.

The dragon drove her into a corner. It batted her boots and snapped at her hat; but still the dragon did not attack. At least, not to kill.

The shadow darted over the dragon.

"Wait!" Wendy threw an arm. "Shadow don't! Stay back! You'll make him mad!"

" _Make_ him mad?!" Fawn shrieked. "He's mad _now_! Are you crazy?!"Wendy you - "

Wendy wasn't listening, in part because she couldn't hear.

"Calm down! Calm down!" Wendy scurried up the wall. She pressed back as the dragon zoomed nose to nose. Wendy turned her head. The dragon closed the distance. It blew hot air against her cheek. Its breath reeked of charcoal and fish.

 _Fish? Interesting._ Wendy thought. _But this was hardly an appropriate time to notice!_ _Better concentrate on not dying first._

Wendy fumbled with her utility belt. Desperately, she searched for her pixie dust.

"You're a dragon! Dragons like gold!"

She found the _Ziploc_. Pixie dust spilled through her fingers as she scooped out a handful and held it to the dragon.

"You want some gold?" Wendy rippled her fingers. The pixie dust glittered. "See? Look! Pixie dust. Pretty. Just like gold..."

The dragon looked. It peered back at Wendy. It looked again.

Distrustfully it accepted the bribe.

Relief flooded Wendy. As the dragon investigated, she angled her hand back and forth. The pixie dust twinkled. She prayed the motion was tantalizing enough to distract the dragon, but innocuous enough that it did not bite her hand.

"Yes...good dragon." Wendy tried to sound soothing, but her voice trembled. "Pixie dust. Just like gold. And you like gold, don't you? See. See how pretty it sparkles - "

Abruptly, the dragon looked up. One eye narrowed. He almost seemed insulted that Wendy was baby-talking him. Why, his expression was almost _human_.

Wendy was startled. And a little embarrassed. It was ludicrous, but Wendy imagined that she would feel similarly if she ever tried to baby-talk to Jim.

In fact, Wendy was on the verge of apologizing when the dragon gave a big, irritated _SNUFF_! Pixie dust fluffed into Wendy's face. And she sneezed.

" _Achoo_!"

The dragon perked. " _Arr-ru_!" it repeated.

Wendy blinked. "A...choo?" she ventured.

The dragon nodded. It pretended to sneeze. " _Arr - ru_!"

Wendy laughed.

The dragon tried to copy. It managed a scratchy bark instead.

Wendy smiled. She offered a hand.

The dragon's facial muscles spasmed. It smiled. Then, it nuzzled Wendy's fingers.

The pixies went _awwww_. Vinny, Fawn, and B.E.N. gawked. Peter's shadow got jealous. Tinkerbell angrily ripped her sign.

"Fawn." Wendy tickled the dragon's chin. Its tail thumped jubilantly. "I think this dragon is friendly."

"Uh huh." said Fawn, slack jawed.

"And - oh!" Wendy floundered under enormous wings as the dragon started to cuddle. "He's also affectionate! Dear me - very affectionate!"

"Ha. You see." Vinny elbowed Fawn smuggly. "Itsa just like I told you! He's justa great-a big-a teddy bear!"

Fawn went "Puh."

Italians. _Can't live with em. Can't live...well. Nope, can't live with em_!


	16. Chapter 16: Magic Fish Sticks

**Chapter 16: Magic Fish Sticks**

It took three pixies to pry the night fury off Wendy. It took three more to mop saliva from her dress (again, lots of licking: the dragon was very affectionate).

When they were detached, Wendy introduced the dragon to Fawn. Once Fawn believed the dragon was not going to kill her, she donned her 'zoologist cap' and geeked right out. Night furies were extremely rare (almost extinct), and Fawn adored the species. She explored the dragon like a kid at Christmas _oooing_ and _awwing_ and _poking_ and _prodding_.

The dragon enjoyed itself thoroughly. As Fawn described his unique traits, the dragon struck regal poses and bold shoulders. As far as the dragon and Fawn were concerned – he was a supermodel.

Wendy followed Fawn's lecture passively, but with genuine interest. She'd always enjoyed learning. Moreover, Fawn's explanations distracted Wendy from her nightmares. She'd listen to _anything_ to forget that dreadful whirlpool dream.

Well, almost anything. When Fawn reached the dragon's hind quarters ("Wow! Someone's going to have fun this mating season!"), Wendy decided the tour was over.

"Fawn? What do night furies usually eat?"

"People." Tinkerbell muttered. She'd been sulking in the background. "Shadow workers."

Wendy held her temper. But it was wearing thin.

"Fawn?" Wendy asked again.

"Um. Fish." Fawn said. She counted a row of black nubs under the dragon's jaw. "Hey! Look! He's 20! He's about our age!"

"Super." said Tinkerbell. "Wendy, you're not seeing any action. Ask it on a date."

Wendy pursed her lips. She concentrated on the hungry dragon.

"Fish, is it? Well." she scratched the dragon's ears. "That explains the fish breath, doesn't it boy? Doesn't it?"

The dragon yapped like a puppy. He nipped Wendy's hat.

"Oh my god." Tinker stuck a finger in her mouth. "I'm going to puke. Find a room!"

"Tinkerbell." Wendy turned sharply. "Go find this dragon some fish."

"Me?" Tinkerbell sneered. "Why me? I'm the Skyworld liaison! I don't feed dragons – "

"Well you were _clearly_ trying to feed him before!" Wendy interrupted. She placed a calming hand on the dragon's snout. " _What was it_ that I saw you throwing? Popcorn? Well night furies don't eat popcorn, they eat fish."

Wendy spoke firmly. "So go on."

Fawn snickered. "Busted."

Tinkerbell seethed. She was infuriated.

Tinkerbell _loved_ tormenting Wendy; it had been a favorite pastime since high school. As a younger girl, Wendy had been _such_ an easy target. She was overly polite and embarrassed easily. It was hilarious too see how far Wendy could be pushed.

Inwardly, Tinkerbell sighed. Too bad Lana was gone – that crazy mermaid had tried to drown Wendy. Good times. Good times.

But things had changed. True, Tinkerbell _still_ loved tormenting Wendy. Wendy was _still_ overly polite and easily embarrassed. However, Wendy could be aggravated too far. When push came to shove, she pushed back.

Normally Tinkerbell would not be intimidated. She loved a good fight.

But there was a catch. Wendy had power now. And as Peter had observed, Wendy was the boss. Moreover, she was a shadow worker. If she wanted, Wendy could make Tinkerbell's life miserable.

 _And she was well on her way!_ Tinkerbell scoffed. _Seriously, they had to feed the dragon?!_ Furiously Tinkerbell turned on her heel and stalked off (to find some fish).

Wendy shook her head. Returning to the dragon she sighed.

"Not a moment's peace."

Tinkerbell did manage to ' _fish'_ out a meal for the dragon, _and_ in a reasonable time frame (which shocked Wendy). She found: frozen fish sticks.

"Frozen?" Wendy scanned the box. "Couldn't we microwave – "

 _Chomp._ The dragon gulped the fish sticks whole (including the box). His stomach rumbled, and the cardboard regurgitated.

Expectably, the dragon waited. _More?_

"Well." Wendy said. "There you have it. Tinkerbell do you mind?"

Tinkerbell _did_ mind. But she stomped back with five more boxes. The dragon was delighted. He decided Tinkerbell could live.

With the dragon sedated, the Underworld resumed normal course. Pixies returned to their engineering, the Seven Dwarves retreated to the tunnels, and Vinny blew stuff up (in a healthy productive manner, of course).

As a result, Wendy was blessed with unexpected 'downtime.' She had missed lunch (thanks to the dragon training) but B.E.N. fetched her tea canister, and Wendy settled for a short break. Fawn marveled at the dragon's wing span ratio; Peter's shadow drifted overhead; and the dragon gobbled his fish sticks.

Wendy studied the dragon as he ate. Suddenly she noticed – the dragon was wearing a harness. She hadn't noticed before because…well, because the dragon had been trying to kill her.

The harness was connected to a saddle. The saddle was smashed. However, several pulley cables extended backwards from the saddle to the dragon's tail.

Wendy rose. She examined the tail.

"I think this dragon is domesticated." she said

"Domesticated?" Tinkerbell ' _accidently'_ overturned Wendy's tea. "It's a dragon. Dragons are wild. Why do you think it's domesticated?"

"Because…" Wendy smoothed a hand over the dragon's tail. "It's wearing a prosthetic."

"Speak English?"

"A prosthetic." Wendy explained. "A prosthetic is like a peg leg, or a glass eye, or a…hook."

Wendy swallowed, remembering her nightmare. Hurriedly she continued.

"I learned about prosthetics in school, from Dr. Sweet. Prosthetics are fake body parts. They replace limbs that aren't there anymore. And…."

Wendy hefted the dragon's tail. She pointed to an artificial tail fin.

"…this dragon is wearing a fake tail. See this red fan?"

Wendy cranked the fan to demonstrate. The dragon turned, interested in what she was doing.

"This piece makes his fin symmetrical. It looks like the end of his tail was sliced down the middle – poor thing. You could imagine the same thing happening to a whale's tail, or a bird's tail, or an airplane."

Wendy's face lit. "That's it! That's how the dragon flies! You see how these cables attach the saddle to the tail?"

Excitedly, she traced the cables. "There must be a rider that controls the prosthesis! What I mean is; a rider must operate the tail fin, which allows the dragon to fly! Think of it – if an airplane didn't have part of its wing, then it wouldn't be able to fly properly! So…"

Joyously, Wendy clapped her hands. "This dragon is – or was – already trained!"

Fawn looked thoughtful. Tinkerbell looked dubious.

"Not buying it." Tinkerbell said. "It's a dragon. Dragons are stupid. They can't be trained."

Wendy was ready.

"Well look at this!" She circled a white symbol painted on the tail fin. It was a horned skull.

"See? This is clearly some sort of tribal marking. This dragon belongs to someone. This dragon…"

Wendy paused.

"Oh dear." she lowered the tail. "This dragon is lost. We – we have to help this dragon find his way home!"

 _Home?_ The dragon skipped. He smothered Wendy in kisses. _Home!_ She had spoken the magic word!

"Yes!" Wendy laughed. "Yes, good boy. We're going to help you get home!"

"Annnnnnnd how are we gonna do that?" Tinkerbell popped a hip. "Stupid dragon can't fly. And we don't know where he's from."

Wendy rubbed her lips. Tinkerbell had a point.

Then, she had a thought. It made her a blush. Just a tinge.

Wendy rubbed the dragon's tail. She tried to sound nonchalant as possible.

"Tinkerbell? Did you tell _Peter_ about the dragon collaboration? You know. Our idea to bring dragons to the Skyworld?"

Tinkerbell snorted. "Sure did. Peter said it was the most _dumb – ass_ idea he'd ever heard."

Wendy was surprised. And a little hurt. "Really? He didn't like it? I thought he would."

"Nope." Tinkerbell flicked a nail. "I think his exact words were: _Tell Miss Darling to go F a dragon herself._ "

Wendy turned bright red. She had no idea if Tinkerbell was lying, exaggerating, or telling the truth – but the insult was so vulgar it did not matter.

"Well!" she huffed. " _You'll_ just have to tell _Mr. Pan_ that he's going to have to corporate! We are sending this dragon home and that is that!"

The night fury flapped its wings. _Hear! Hear!_

"Whoa! Excuse me Miss Holy Than Thou!" Tinkerbell chased Wendy around the dragon. "What do you mean _I'll_ have to tell Peter? I'm not taking this dragon to the Skyworld!"

"Yes." Wendy corrected. "You are."

"What?" Tinkerbell shrieked. " _Why_? I don't want to take this stupid, stinky, drag – "

"Tinkerbell, _you_ are the Skyworld liaison!"

"So?"

"So!" Wendy ushered the dragon from Tinkerbell (it did not like being called stupid or stinky). "So you are responsible for all transactions between the Underworld and Skyworld, _even_ those that include dragons! _It – is – your – job_!"

"But the dragon can't fly!" Tinkerbell gestured rudely. "And I'm not getting on that crummy old saddle!"

"You won't have to!" Wendy retorted. She turned to Fawn. "Fawn, please call Terrence. We'll use pixie dust."

Tinkerbell objected. "Pixie dust? What the Hell am I supposed to do with – "

"We will use pixie dust on the dragon!" Wendy said. "The pixie dust will lift the dragon into the air! All you will have to do is guide the dragon to the Skyworld, bring him to Peter, explain the situation, and then Peter can take the dragon home!"

Tinkerbell spit nails. "Peter won't do it!"

"Try to be convincing!"

"But Peter said it was a _dumb_ _ass_ idea –"

"I will write him – " Wendy exclaimed, "—a letter!"

Tinkerbell cackled. "That's rich, he never got any of your others!"

Wendy stopped. She was beyond frustrated. " _What_?"

Tinkerbell froze. Her nose twisted as Fawn arrived with Terrence.

"Nothing! Just nothing! Go ahead!" Tinkerbell snarled, "Write your damn note!"

Terrence watched Tinkerbell storm away. He half smiled. Then, he turned brightly to Wendy.

"Hear you need some pixie dust?"

Wendy nodded. Composing herself, she motioned to the dragon. "Please. Enough to make him fly."

It was a challenge. The night fury did not like pixie dust – especially when it stuck in his eyes.

So they found an alternate solution. Wendy suggested they spice the fish sticks with pixie dust.

"It's how I got Michael to eat his vegetables." Wendy explained. "Peanut butter. Put peanut butter on celery and one forgets they are eating something healthy. We can do the same with fish sticks and pixie dust."

Tinkerbell pooh-poohed. Fawn shrugged. Terrence opened the fish sticks. "Let's give it a whirl!"

It worked. The dragon ate the 'magic fish sticks' and floated into the air. He paddled elatedly as Wendy and Terrence 'magicked' the remaining fish sticks.

"What a day, huh?" Terrence poured pixie dust over the fish sticks. He closed the box and shook. "Your first trained dragon! Nice work!"

He handed Wendy the box. She packed it on the dragon's saddle.

"Well I think he's already trained." Wendy admitted. "I really didn't do anything."

"Hey you didn't die!" Terrence prepared the last box. Vigorously he shook. "That's something! Oh hey! You wanna celebrate? Tink, Rosetta, Silvermist and I are going dancing at _Tiana's Palace_! _Prince Ali_ – you remember, Aladdin from school? Well _Prince Ali_ is his stage name, and he's performing at _Tiana's Palace_ tonight! You want to come?"

Wendy felt a pang. She loved dancing. And goodness, she hadn't danced since her last (and only) date with Peter. It would be wonderful to dance, to _have_ _fun_. Her toes curled at the very thought!

But there were two things wrong.

First, Terrence was asking. Wendy liked Terrence; they had similar work ethics. " _Best to be prepared._ " Terrence would say " _Too much beats none at all_."

Terrence was honest and hardworking. It was why Wendy had entrusted him to the most important duty of all: distributing pixie dust from Big B.E.N. Terrence controlled the heart of the city.

Wendy and Terrence worked well together. But of late, Terrence had been acting…friendly. Friendlier than usual. He'd offer her compliments, reheat her tea, fly her home…once he asked to kiss her hand goodnight.

Wendy flushed at the memory. She'd refused the kiss, of course. Terrence had a soft spot for Tinkerbell, and Wendy did not want more conflict. Moreover, she was still in love with Peter Pan. And technically they were still engaged.

Yes she was lonely. Yes she craved company. Yes Terrence's advances were innocent. Yes Peter would never know. But Wendy still refused. Each time.

Luckily, she could not accept Terrence's most recent invitation. There was another glitch: she couldn't leave the Underworld.

"Well, that does sound lovely. But I can't." Wendy double knotted the fish sticks to the saddle. " _Tiana's Palace_ is on land. And unless King Arthur calls…"

Wendy tightened the knot. "Then I must stay here."

Terrence slapped his head. Pixie dust sprinkled from his hair.

"Wow! Duh Terrence! Sorry Wendy. But hey! How about this – we've got to make a report on this operation, right? Let's meet tomorrow morning for coffee! My treat!"

Wendy spoke carefully. "Thank you. Really. But I don't drink coffee."

"Oh right! Okay then, how about tea – "

"—Terrence."

Wendy stared into saddle. She'd been abrupt. Extremely curt. She hated hurting Terrence's feelings.

Terrence turned downcast. "Still no?"

Wendy sighed. _Very_ tiredly. "Still no."

Terrence nodded. He straightened his Victorian vest.

"Okay then. You better write Peter that letter. You know. Explaining what's what. I don't think Tink has much patience left."

Sadly, Wendy agreed. "Or to begin with…"

As Terrence slumped away, Wendy asked for pen and paper and began to write.

She hardly knew what to say. With Tinkerbell's insinuations, Peter's six-year-silence, and her awkward interactions with Terrence, Wendy had no idea where she and Peter stood. Romantically, of course.

Wendy bit her pen. How should she begin? How should Peter be addressed?

' _Peter Pan'_ was too non-feeling. ' _Dearest Peter'_ was too fluffy. ' _Lord Skyworld'_ would just inflate his ego.

The dragon whined. It was growing restless. Wendy sighed. Dissatisfied, she began to write.

 **Hello Peter –**

 **This dragon is lost. His tail is hurt, and he cannot fly without assistance. Can you help find his home?**

Wendy paused. She needed a closing statement. Slowly, she started to write ' _love_.'

Then she blotted it out.

 **As Ever –**

 **Wendy**

Wendy reread. Then, she added three postscripts.

 **p.s. The fish sticks contain pixie dust. They will help him fly.**

 **p.p.s. Tickle under his chin. He likes that.**

 **p.p.p.s.**

The pen hovered over the third postscript. Wendy bit her lip. Heart bleeding into the ink, she wrote:

 ** _Please_ respond.**

"All right. Done is good."

Wendy folded the letter. She tucked it inside the dragon's saddle. Sunnily, she turned to the night fury.

"Are you ready go home?"

The dragon danced. Wendy laughed. As she knelt, she swore the dragon said ' _yippie_!'

"I am sending you – " Wendy hugged the dragon. "—to a very clever boy. His name is Peter. He lives in the sky and he will help you get home. I've written him a letter explaining everything. So all you have to do, is just eat those fish sticks!"

The dragon nuzzled Wendy. Sadly, it purred.

Wendy ached. All of a sudden she felt terribly lonely.

Gently, she kissed the dragon's nose.

"I wish you could stay. I _will_ miss you. But no one should be cooped in this dark Underworld forever. You belong outside! So. I want you to fly as _fast_ as you can! Go out into the sunshine. And… _please_ …"

Brokenhearted, Wendy whispered. "… _do_ enjoy it."

They shared a final embrace. Dragon and girl withdrew.

And Wendy felt a prick.

"Ouch!"

She turned, grabbing her low back. There was no one behind her. Only Tinkerbell. And the pixie was beyond arms reach.

Wendy frowned. She returned to the dragon.

Again a prick. This time stronger. It stung through her belly-button and into her spine.

"Ouch!" Angrily, Wendy turned. "Tinkerbell!"

"Wendy." Fawn said. "Wendy – she didn't touch you."

Wendy massaged her back. She felt her stomach. Perplexed she looked to Peter's shadow. The shadow shrugged.

Wendy was at a lost.

"Then what – oh!" Wendy lurched backwards. Pain shot through her navel. She doubled over. It felt like a needle had punctured her belly button, and was pulling her back by a thread. Wendy gasped. Helplessly she stumbled, trying to fight the invisible pull.

"Shadow!" Wendy cried. "Shadow what's – "

She jerked upwards. Her feet left the floor.

Wendy clutched her stomach. She cringed, clawing for the invisible thread.

" _What's going on_?!"

Then Wendy heard it. A man's voice. Very faint. Very small. Very sad.

"… _wendy_ …"

The voice called softly. It called from right inside her head.

But before Wendy could respond, she tumbled out of the Underworld and through a magic oven.


	17. Chapter 17: No Place Like Home

**Chapter 17: No Place Like Home**

"I'm….home."

Wendy lifted her feet. The magic oven had spit her out head first; back on the floor, legs sprawled over the door. Several painful moments passed before Wendy recognized the oven. It was the magical oven discovered by Jim; it was the magical conduit between the Underworld and Fantasia; it was an appliance inside the high school kitchen; it was inside _Fantasia School for the Magically Skewed_!

Which meant, _she_ was inside _Fantasia School for the Magically Skewed_.

Which meant, she was –

"Home!"

Wendy spun onto her knees. She whipped around in half circles, laughing, gasping, and sparkling from head to toe.

"I'm home!" Wendy cried. The kitchen was empty, no one could hear, but Wendy was so happy she didn't care. "I'm home! I'm home! I'm – "

Wendy poked her head inside the magic oven. Voice echoing, she called elatedly down the dark hole.

"Take _that_ Underworld _I'm home_!"

She could almost hear the Underworld grumble.

Wendy flipped the oven door. BAM! The oven banged shut. Vindictively she opened and closed it again. BAM! She repeated the sequence four times more; six times total for _every year_ she had been away from home.

It felt good. No. It felt _wonderful_.

She was _home_.

Wendy tossed her bowler. She caught it and twirled. She did a little happy dance. And she sprinted out the door.

Then she got lost.

Although Wendy had been away, she was confident with her ability to navigate her old high school. After all, it was _only_ a high school. She'd spent more time in these corridors than her own house!

But _Fantasia School for the Magically Skewed_ had changed. There were extra sets of stairs, mysterious hallways, and doorways that shouldn't exist. Clearly the school had been renovated, and Wendy became helplessly lost in the maze. She was impatient to go home, and became frustrated with every wrong turn.

Suddenly Wendy remembered: she didn't have a home. At least, she didn't know where it was. When she left Fantasia, her childhood house had been ransacked by villains, and her adopted home (The Benbow) had been burned. Wendy was certain Mrs. Hawkins (her adopted mother) had relocated with Michael and John – but Wendy hadn't the foggiest idea where!

Wendy quickened her pace. Her boots clicked in the empty hall. She considered asking Peter's shadow to locate her family, but the poor thing was still in the Underworld. Wendy was on her own.

A little panicked, Wendy started to run (despite the ' _No Running In The Hallways'_ sign). Desperate to find the exit, she whipped around the corner and collided into –

"Master Merlin!"

" _Jehoshaphat_!"

Wand, books, papers, carpet bag, and signature blue pointed hat flew into the air.

Incredibly apologetic, Wendy began gathering Master Merlin things.

"Yes, yes, yes it's all right, it's all right! Stop apologizing!" Master Merlin stuffed papers into his carpet bag. "But didn't you see the sign?! _No Running In the Hallways_! Master Cogsworth spent hours making those confounded things!"

"I'm sorry!" Wendy scrambled for his books. "Really, I was only just – "

"Late for class I'd wager!" Master Merlin snatched the books. "Well you _are_ late! This period is almost over! Five minutes left until the bell! What class did you skip then? Come on! Out with it!"

Wendy handed the wizard his hat. "Please Master Merlin. I didn't skip class."

"Oldest excuse in the book!"

"No!" Wendy removed her hat. She pointed to her blue bow. "Look, it's me! Wendy. Wendy Darling."

"Hang it all young lady you are ankle deep in – _Wendy_?"

Master Merlin dropped his carpet bag. Adjusting his round spectacles he gawked at Wendy like an owl. "Wendy Darling?"

"Yes." Wendy nodded. It was exhilarating to hear her name from an old, familiar face. "It's me! I'm home! I'm back!"

Master Merlin sputtered. "Well that's a crock!"

Wendy blinked. "Excuse me?"

"You're not supposed to be here!" Master Merlin wagged a finger. "You're supposed to be in the Underworld!"

"But – I – " Wendy blushed. Master Merlin was _chastising_ her! Oh dear. Was he going to give her detention?

Wendy tried to justify herself. "But Master Merlin, I was! I was in the Underworld! I was tending to a dragon as a matter of fact. A night fury – "

"A night fury? Black dragon? Big wings? Retractable teeth? _Toothless_?"

"Yes." Wendy continued. "And everything was going well – until I felt a prick."

She indicated to her belly and back. "Right here! And then I felt a pull, a pull that I couldn't fight! It lifted me off the ground, through the magic oven, and I heard..."

Wendy touched her head. "I heard a voice. A voice calling my name, and…oh!"

Suddenly Wendy remembered. Six years ago, minutes before she left Fantasia, King Arthur had made a promise:

 _"No need to say goodbye."_ King Arthur had whispered. _"You'll come back. When I call you."_

"The call." Wendy breathed. "That's it! The voice _called_ my name! It was King Arthur! I'm here because King Arthur _called_! Oh goodness – Master Merlin!"

Wendy looked earnestly. "Master Merlin why did King Arthur call? Is everything all right?"

Master Merlin flumped. He blew his white beard.

"What time is it?!" he demanded.

"Time? I – you said it was five minutes until the end of the period – "

"No not _this_ time!" Master Merlin rolled up his sleeve. Seventeen wristwatches ticked all the way up his arm. "The _other_ time!"

"Other time?" Wendy said, terribly confused. "What other time? There's another time?"

"What sort of silly question is that? Of course there is another time! Especially for me – I live backwards! AH HA!"

Master Merlin identified the correct wristwatch. He leapt upright.

" _Jehoshaphat_! IT'S TIME!"

"Time for what?" Wendy asked.

"Time! Time! Time!" rattled Master Merlin. "Hang it all its time! After all: _you're_ here – _he_ must have called! Then that means – oh heavens to Betsy! Poor Arthur's going to have a myocardial infarction!"

"A what?"

"Heart attack!" Master Merlin snapped. "Has to happen – can't be avoided! Poor boy! Oh well. He'll just have to suck it up! After all IT'S TIME! And if it's time…."

Master Merlin looked at Wendy. He tipped his wizard hat.

"Then it's about time I disappeared. Stupid Schmendrick. Lovely to see you again Wendy."

POOF.

Blue smoke puffed. Blue sparkles popped. Master Merlin was gone.

"Master Merlin? Master Merlin?" Wendy waved blue smoke. Bewildered she wondered aloud. "What in the world is going on?"

 _BRRRRRRRRRRRRING._

Wendy jumped. As the school bell rang, students poured from their classrooms and filled the halls.

Wendy remembered high school. She remembered it being chaotic. But as a young adult, she had new perspective: high school was completely wild.

Students shrieked, stampeded, threw gum, and gossiped. Social cliques devoured each other like piranhas. Lower classmen antagonized the upper classmen; the upper classmen antagonized the professors. No one looked happy and everyone complained of homework.

It was a zoo, it was a madhouse, and it was insane. Wendy marveled: _how did she ever survive?_

A second bell rang. Students groaned for their classrooms. Wendy took the opportunity to ask for directions.

"Excuse me?" she asked a sophomore girl. "Could you tell me where – "

"Nice hat." the girl sneered. Her friends giggled.

Frustrated Wendy turned. She tried an older boy.

"I beg your pardon, but I'm looking for – "

"Hot damn!" the boy hooted. His friends whistled.

Wendy almost tore off their shadows.

"They're in high school." she reminded herself darkly (even though the boys were approximately her age). Wendy tried to remain calm. "Don't detach their shadows they're only in high – "

"Wendy?"

Wendy turned. A boy and girl where standing behind her, almost halfway down the hall. Both were staring – the boy with his mouth ajar. Clearly he was the one that had called.

"Yes?" Wendy said.

The boy spoke. "Wendy. It's me."

Wendy peered. The boy and girl _obviously_ recognized her. But she did not recognize them. They were 10, perhaps 11 years old. The girl had a dark complexion and athletic build. She wore an Elvis Presley T shirt, Hawaiian bracelets, and her backpack was squirming (as if she was hiding a puppy inside). Everything about the girl screamed _SURFS UP!_

The boy was her polar opposite. Although they shared the same Hawaiian bracelets, the boy seemed less rambunctious. His poise was gentle, almost docile. His blonde hair was combed over. His clothes were pastel colors. And his eyes were big and blue.

 _Just…like…hers._

Wendy's heart dropped. When she spoke, she hardly breathed.

"…Michael?"

Michael's lip quivered. "Wendy."

Wendy moved. She started to run.

"Michael!"

Michael's bag fell. He ran to her.

"Wendy!"

Wendy pushed through the crowd. Sobbing, she collapsed to her knees and seized her baby brother.

He was too big – _much_ too big to be cradled like a child. But it was the motion Wendy remembered, the only interaction she'd had with her five year old brother. Whether it was greeting him from school, kissing him goodnight, or protecting him on a pirate ship, Wendy had always held Michael within this embrace: she on her knees, he in her lap, her chin on his head.

"Michael!" Wendy cried into his hair. "Michael, Michael!"

"I knew it was you!" Michael squeezed her waist. "I knew it was you!"

 _BRRRRRRRRRRRRING!_ The third bell rang.

Michael jolted. Dismayed he looked at Wendy.

"I have class!"

Wendy couldn't speak. She tried. Nothing came out.

"A test!" Michael swallowed. "Social history! Mr. Tatch! What do I do?"

"Oh my god!" The Hawaiian girl peeked over Michael's shoulder. A fuzzy blue alien peeked over hers. "Come on Michael! Just skip!"

Wendy gasped. "Lilo? Stitch?"

Lilo saluted. " _Aloha_!"

"Batookah!" yapped Stitch.

"Students!" A professor clapped behind them. "Come, come now! Clear the halls! Everybody in class! Remember _: a happy scholar stands that much taller_!"

Michael wiped his tears. He looked at his classroom. "I – I gotta –"

"Y-yes." Wendy found her voice. "Go – on."

Michael pulled himself away. A part of Wendy ripped apart with him.

"Don't go?" Michael begged. "Don't leave?"

Wendy nodded. "I'll wait. Right here."

"Promise?"

"Promise."

"Wendy?"

"Michael?"

Michael backed into his classroom. "Don't go!"

The door shut. Michael disappeared.

Wendy remained. She was shocked. _Utterly_ shell-shocked.

And horrified.

"Um? Excuse me? Young lady? Can we…be of assistance?"

Wendy looked. Dr. Doppler (the school's astronomy teacher) and Dr. Sweet (the school nurse) looked back. At first they seemed concerned. Then, as they studied her, their expressions dawned.

" _Wendy_?" Dr. Doppler woofed.

Dr. Sweet's smile mixed with his confusion. "Wendy Darling?"

Wendy lifted a hand. She pointed at the classroom. Uncontrollably, she started to shake.

"That was Michael."

"Oh dear." said Dr. Doppler.

"That was my brother." Wendy said. "That was my little brother. I didn't _recognize_ him."

"Wendy." Dr. Sweet hovered like a mother bird. He took her shoulders. "Wendy don't panic."

Wendy promptly panicked.

"I didn't recognize my own brother!" Tears rolled down her cheeks. "Michael recognized me, but I didn't recognize – "

"Wendy!" Dr. Sweet laughed. Performing a quick diagnosis, he gave Wendy the best medication that a healer could provide.

A hug.

"It's okay, Wendy. It's okay." Dr. Sweet circled her back. He raised eyebrows to Dr. Doppler, who shrugged. "Come on girl, you were in my pre-med class! Good student too. You remember – kids develop lightyears compared to adults! All those hormones, and growth spurts, and coodies! _Of_ _course_ you didn't recognize Michael! Little whippersnapper thinned right out! Oh come on Wendy – it's okay…"

Dr. Sweet's medical beeper buzzed. Continuing to comfort Wendy, he scanned the beeper with one hand.

"It's okay Wendy. Honey, it's okay….Huh. Dr. Doppler? You wanna take over from here?"

"Oh why yes!" Dr. Doppler said. "Certainly! Here's a kerchief, Wendy – poor thing. Joshua – is something amiss?"

Dr. Sweet gently removed Wendy as Dr. Doppler knelt.

"Yes. Something is amiss. That was Headmaster Mickey that just called." Grimly, Dr. Sweet clicked the beeper. "King Arthur had a heart attack."

The comment grabbed Wendy. She remembered. Master Merlin had predicted King Arthur's heart attack only moments ago.

"What?" exclaimed Dr. Doppler. "King Arthur? A heart attack?"

Dr. Sweet nodded. "Myocardial infarction."

"But that's preposterous! He's only nineteen!"

"And he's under a ton of stress. That coulda triggered an irregular heartbeat." Dr. Sweet pocketed his beeper. "All right, I'm off. Delbert, get Michael out of class. And Wendy – "

Dr. Sweet winked. "Don't panic."

...

* * *

...

Wendy insisted that she accompany Dr. Sweet. Perhaps King Arthur's heart attack was the reason she had been called. But Dr. Doppler rebuffed her worries. Patting her hand, he assured Wendy that Dr. Sweet and Headmaster Mickey had everything under control. Besides, King Arthur was a spry young lad – he'd probably be running around like a squirrel in no time.

Wendy argued. After all, she needed to determine why King Arthur had called.

However, at that moment Peter's shadow appeared (panting from its marathon across Underworld), and Dr. Doppler almost had a heart attack of his own.

In the end, Wendy and Dr. Doppler compromised. Wendy was promised that Dr. Sweet would tell Headmaster Mickey and King Arthur of her arrival. In the meantime, Michael would take Wendy home.

Wendy could not stop her smile.

"All right." she agreed. "But only because I promised Michael."

Michael was excused from class. They reunited all over again (Dr. Doppler joined). And Michael brought Wendy home.

"Ta da!" Michael pulled Wendy. He flung an arm. "Welcome home!"

Wendy paused. Michael hung off her hand. Quietly she soaked their surroundings.

She remembered this place: Pirate's Point. Pirate's Point was a grey cliff overlooking the Western Fantasian Sea. It was blustery, barren, and stained with sea salt. It was the place she had left Fantasia. It was the place she had first met Jim.

And now Pirate's Point was her home.

Wendy grinned. "I love it!"

Michael skipped. "I know! Me too! Come on! Mama Sarah's at work! And John works late! We can surprise everyone when they come home! Oh! And Wendy! Mama Sarah said that when you come back, we can have a party! _And do you know what that means_?"

Wendy laughed. Michael was bursting to tell her.

"No? What does it mean?"

Michael cheered. "Take out pizza!"

Wendy and Michael held hands. Together they raced home.

And as they crossed the doormat, a spaceship crashed into the ocean.

* * *

 **...**

 **Big4girl poem:**

 _ **Home! Home! My wonderful home! No one can keep me from the world I roam, but nothing can beat my fabulous home!**_

 **...**


	18. Chapter 18: The Silent Guardian

**Chapter 18: The Silent Guardian**

There was a legend. A legend that only seafarers knew. It was the legend of the Silent Siren.

Now, sirens were well known to sailors, and well feared. They were also well admired. A sirens' beauty was indescribable. And her singing was irresistible to the human ear.

But for every sailor calling a siren 'beautiful,' two more called her a 'sea monster.' Sirens baited with their beauty and lured men to their deaths. The only way to survive a siren was to plug one's ears and close one's eyes.

Sirens were sea monsters.

Except, the Silent Siren.

The Silent Siren was the guardian of the sea. She surfaced shipwrecks and calmed the squalls. She was kind to fishermen and kinder to fish. She harnessed the ocean's energy and distributed it equally above and below the sea.

And sometimes, _if_ a sailor was lucky, he would almost drown. Because, the Silent Siren would rescue him from the deep. She would never speak. She would never surface. But she would _always_ be there.

Sailors neither knew her name nor whence she came. They only knew that she was beautiful, she never spoke, she never left the sea, and she never asked to be thanked.

So, in their humble, gruff ways, the sailors thanked the Silent Siren. They thanked her with songs, sea shanties. One of the sea shanties went like this:

 _It's a damn tough life,_

 _Full of toil and strife,_

 _We Fantasians undergo._

 _... ..._

 _And we don't give a damn,_

 _When the gale is done,_

 _Or how hard the winds did blow._

 _... ..._

 _For the silent one,_

 _She will lead us on,_

 _With a hand upon our haul._

 _... ..._

 _Hair shark blood red,_

 _Deep blue eyed head,_

 _Siren save us one and all._

 _... ..._

 _Sing the Silent Siren's song, me boys._

 _Sing the Silent Siren's song._

 _Hair shark blood red,_

 _Deep blue eyed head,_

 _Sing the Silent Siren's song._

The number of sea shanties grew. The Silent Siren became a legend. And sailors, in between daydreams, longed to know her name.

Except Eric.

"Ariel? Ariel, come in."

Eric – actually _Captain_ Eric – was one of Fantasia's highest ranking officers. Second only to Admiral Triton, Eric commanded Fantasia's navy with a steady hand. All combat for Eric turned into smooth sailing. He was even-keeled as they come.

He was also a premier specimen. Ever since he defeated Ursula the seawitch (in the Battle to Take Fantasia), Eric had been a favorite of Admiral Triton and a prize amongst the ladies.

And why not? Jet black hair, icy blue eyes, handsome smile, and a four stripes on his naval uniform – Eric was a catch! Any female in her right mind would be overemotionally in love with Captain Eric.

Except one female; the one female Eric wanted.

"Ariel?" Eric spoke into a sonar microphone. Below his vessel –The _FFCCGC Leviathan_ – the sonar translated his voice into ' _Dolphin_.' Apparently _Dolphin_ was a language.

Eric tapped a computer screen. He waited for Ariel's response.

The ocean was a world of sound. Light penetrated the water for the first 200 meters. Starting at meter 201, sea creatures depended on sound for communication.

It was ironic, considering Ariel was voiceless. However, she adapted extremely well.

Ariel lived in an undersea grotto. The grotto was wired sound. Eric had been there. The walls were stacked with speakers (decibel and sonar), mp3 players, microphones, iPods, radios, computers, laptops, and even a vintage Victrola. All of these devises Ariel powered with her trident. She'd plug the trident into an outlet and POW – music to Ariel's ears.

It was a disc jockey's paradise. And it helped Ariel communicate.

Just like now. If Ariel heard Eric's message, she would return it (probably by typing ' _Dolphin'_ into her computer and directing the sonar signal to his ship). All Eric had to do was wait.

His computer blinked. A message was loading. Eric tilted the screen. A series of dolphin ticks, clicks, and whines played over the speakers.

Eric lowered the volume. _Dolphin_. _Ariel's favorite language. Also the closest sea creature language to English. He'd have to learn to it someday._

The 'loading' icon reached 100%. The translation was completed. A message appeared across the screen.

 **Hi Eric – what's up?**

A second message appeared before he could answer.

 **Besides the land and sky :P**

Eric smiled. Even in jest, he could tell Ariel missed home. She got lonely under the sea.

Eric typed a reply. He reread the message before translating it into _Dolphin_. **Hello Ariel. Nothing, I just wanted to say hello. Maybe take a submarine down to the grotto?**

Her return message was blunt. **I AM BUSY – THIS OCEAN IS HUGE**

Obviously Ariel was not in the mood to flirt.

Quickly, Eric typed a little lie. He didn't want Ariel to leave her computer (which was not unusual. Ariel was awfully impatient).

 **Actually I was asked to make contact with you by Admiral Triton (your father).**

Eric sent the message. He waited. When Ariel's message arrived he could almost see her eye roll.

 **I** _ **know**_ **Admiral Triton is my father – okay, what's up?**

Eric sighed. Duty before pleasure. He typed: **An unidentified object crashed into the ocean not long ago. Did you see it?**

There was a pause. A long pause.

Ariel replied: **A UFO?**

Eric confirmed: **Yes.**

Another pause. Longer than the first.

Then Ariel asked: **...like...a spaceship?**

Eric verbally scoffed. If he could swear in _Dolphin_ he would. Pounding the keys, Eric replied: **Ariel I** _ **don't think**_ **it was him. And even if it was, Admiral Triton (and I) would arrest Jim Hawkins for invading Fantasian waters without authorization.**

Eric wacked the SEND key. Irritated, he waited.

And waited.

And waited.

Finally, he typed: **Ariel?**

Ariel's reply was swift. And as he read, Eric felt the ship lurch towards shore.

 **I think the tides are pulling me home.**

* * *

 **...**

 **sultal's note: so this was interesting - kind of an impromptu chapter which I don't usually do. My bro is all into sea shanties - he shared with me "Rolling Down to Old Maui." I thought about it and decided to give Ariel her props (since I waited SO long for an Ariel chapter - symbolizing her silence, ya know). Anyway, I changed the lyrics and gave Ariel a song.**

 **But all it kinda makes sense - sailors would make Ariel a legend. Plus the song is fantastic. No worries, the next chapter will still be Ariel! keep writing.**


	19. Chapter 19: Shut Up and Dance

**sultal's note: ack! I hate putting notes at the beginning! But anyway...**

 **(1) Song = "Shut Up and Dance" by Walk the Moon (slash one of the best songs ever), (2) Ariel's Guardian Outfit on my DA page (sultal-wf)**

 **(3) Songs in stories - yeah, can be blase (blah-zay), but I have a song for Peter and Wen to, so we're gonna try it.**

* * *

 **Chapter 19: Shut Up and Dance**

The tide breathed in. The tide breathed out.

And Ariel Triton melted from the waves.

For a moment she merely stood; waist deep in ocean and droplets sliding over her body. The sun set faded, but Ariel waited. Scanning the beach, she delayed long enough to make sure the tide would not pull her back. She delayed long enough to make sure she would not disappear like seafoam. She delayed long enough to make sure that _this moment_ was real.

"Ariel!" said Flounder, Ariel's personal spokesfish. He nosed her with a yellow snout. "Ariel! You're home!"

Ariel smiled. Shaking her hair, twirling her trident, and scrunching sand between her toes, Ariel laughed. Silently, but still she laughed.

Then she ran. She dragged the tides with her stride. And as she neared shore, Ariel started to run _on top_ of the water.

 _Ooo._ Ariel thought, toes springing across the surface like a trampoline. _This is new!_

The trident glowed as Ariel's excitement grew. Ariel's emotions were short fused to her trident. Powerful emotions – happy or sad – could travel through the trident and be released as magical energy. The circuit was combustive, but Ariel had learned to control it.

Well, for the most part – sometimes Ariel's emotions were just too strong. For example, as Ariel darted into her family's seaside mansion, her trident positively shone; the energy could have powered a billion constellations.

 _Daddy!?_

Ariel tore through the mansion. She thundered upstairs, calling her father and sisters (even though no one could hear). _Daddy!_ _Attina! Andrina! Aquatta! Arista! Alana!_ She almost called _Adella_ , then stopped. Adella had betrayed Fantasia. She and Lana had joined Captain Hook – and drowned in Ariel's whirlpool as a result.

Ariel paused. The memory made her sad. The trident hummed, reflecting her feelings. Ariel had loved her sisters and cousins. True, they could get a little wild – but they were also fun. A part of Ariel wished 'the little mermaids' could reunite for a night of glitz and glamor.

Ariel sighed. Realizing that no one was home, she roamed the empty mansion. Memories on her sisters, she drifted into the old bedroom they had shared.

Not much had changed. Several beds _were_ missing, but Ariel suspected her older sisters had married and moved to private mansions. Nonetheless, the bedroom was exactly as Ariel remembered. It was cluttered in a way that only sisters know how: lipstick, mascara, high heels, stuffed animals, hair straighteners, nail polish, boy-crazy posters, and everything colored purple, turquoise, and pink.

Ariel bounced on her bed. She opened her drawers, explored her jewelry box, and sat at her vanity. All her belongs were still there – green and purple beanie, seashell earrings, portable radio….Each item reminded Ariel of her fifteen year old self.

 _Fifteen years old!_ Ariel marveled. _Gosh! That had been six years ago! Daddy and her sister were sure in for a surprise! She had changed. A lot._

Ariel looked into the mirror. She was almost surprised.

A young lady looked back. Ariel tilted. Her eyes were still deep blue and (if possible) bigger than ever before. Her hair was still red, and decorated with a circlet of pearls (the circlet of the Seaworld guardian).

Interestingly, Ariel was dressed like a teenager (purple clamshell brazier, green jeggings, and seashell headphones around her neck), but her maturity was clear. Ariel looked down. She'd always been endowed with a feminine figure; her years under the ocean had only accentuated the curves.

Ariel smiled into the mirror. She decided: she liked the way she looked.

She could only pray that… _he_ did too. Jim.

Ariel's nerves bubbled into her chest. Too anxious to sit (and frankly too sick of the silence), Ariel grabbed her portable radio and jogged downstairs. She'd hid under the ocean for six years: it was time to celebrate.

'— _and that wraps up the number two spot for this week's Top 40 Fantasia Hits: 'Everybody Wants to Be a Cat' by Thomas O'Malley and the Alley Cats_ —'

Ariel hopped downstairs. She fiddled with the radio as station broadcaster announced the next song.

'— _And now! For this week's NUMBER ONE hit single! Boys and girls ladies and gents I dare you NOT to DANCE! Here it is! Fantasia's number one song: 'Shut Up and Dance' by Prince Ali_!'

The music leapt from the radio and into Ariel's ears. She was unfamiliar with the tune. But gosh – it was catchy!

 _Oh don't you dare look back,_

 _Just keep your eyes on me._

Ariel's foot started to tap.

 _I said you're holding back,_

 _She said shut up and dance with me!_

Ariel brightened. Shut up? Silent!? Just like her!

 _This woman is my destiny_

Ariel's heart pattered. She thought of Jim thinking of her.

 _She said oh oh oh!_

Anticipating the lyric, Ariel mouthed the words.

 _Shut up and dance with me!_

The beat hit. Ariel matched the music with a conservative sway.

 _We were victims of the night_

Ariel backstepped into her living room

 _The chemical, physical, kryptonite_

She laughed, almost tripping on Alana's hairbrush.

 _Helpless to the bass and the fading light_

She stopped. She looked at the hairbrush.

 _Oh we were bound to get together_

Ariel smiled. She had an idea.

 _Bound to get together!_

Ariel snatched Alana's hairbrush—

 _She took my arm_

-held it like a microphone.

 _I don't know how it happened_

She jacked the radio volume –

 _We took the floor and she said!_

-until she could feel every cord inside her throat!

The chorus attacked.

And Ariel Triton pretended to sing.

It was crazy. It was childish. It was improper for the guardian of the Seaworld. But Ariel's home was empty. There was only a radio to greet her. She loved the song. And she identified with the lyrics. So she cranked the volume until it vibrated in her throat. She brought Alana's hairbrush to her mouth. And lipsynching each word, Ariel pretended. She pretended Ursula hadn't cursed her vocal cords. She pretended she still had her voice.

She pretended to sing.

 _Oh don't you dare look back_

 _Just keep your eyes on me_

 _I said you're holding back_

 _She said shut up and dance with me!_

 _This woman is my destiny_

 _She said oh oh oh_

 _Shut up and dance with me!_

The singer stopped, fading into the beat. Ariel's throat tingled, impatient for the voice to return. When it did, Ariel increased her sway.

She had lived in the ocean -

 _A backless dress and some beat up sneaks_

\- for SIX years!

 _My disco tec Juliet teenage dream_

The ocean had carried her –

 _I felt it in my chest as she looked at me_

So what did else did she want to do –

 _I knew we were bound to be together_

-besides sing?

 _Bound to be together._

The music had her answer.

 _She took my arm!_

Ariel threw an arm! She wanted to jump!

 _I don't know how it happened_

Ariel twirled! She wanted to spin!

 _We took the floor and she said!_

Ariel silently laughed. She wanted to dance!

And she did. Spinning, skipping, and pirouetting, Ariel danced fluidly as water. Supported by the ocean's buoyancy for six years, she relished the feeling of losing her balance and stomping her feet. Oh how she missed this! Oh how she loved to dance!

 _Oh don't you dare look back_

 _Just keep your eyes on me_

 _I said you're holding back_

 _She said shut up and dance with me_

 _This woman is my destiny_

 _She said oh oh oh_

 _Shut up and dance with me_

 _Oh, come on girl!_

The instrumentals took over. And Ariel went crazy. Body unbounded as the sea, she danced and danced, _pulverized_ by the beat.

She was happy!

 _Deep in her eyes_

SO happy!

 _I think I see the future_

She leapt, trident slicing the air.

 _I realize-_

She landed.

 _-this is my last chance_

She leapt again.

 _She took my arm_

But...

 _I don't know how it happened_

...something was missing...

 _We took the floor and she said!_

Or was it...someone?

The music softened, leaving only the beat. Automatically Ariel decelerated. Insides still sparkling she turned.

Then her heart stopped.

A boy was at the door.

A boy with sunken eyes.

A boy she had not seen for six years.

But a boy that she dreamt about. Every day. Every night.

The boy - _the man_ \- filling his eyes with her.

He smiled.

Ariel breathed.

 _Jim._

The music returned. Ariel could almost hear the singer smiling.

 _Oh don't you dare look back_

Jim crossed the room.

 _Just keep your eyes on me_

Ariel couldn't look away.

Jim's eyebrows rose. Playfully he spoke the next line. " _I said you're holding back_."

Challengingly, Ariel tilted her chin.

 _Shut up and dance with me._

Jim surprised Ariel. He took her waist. Drew her in.

 _This woman is my destiny_

Ariel realized: Jim was about to do something he hated.

 _She said oh oh oh_

Because he knew it was something she loved.

They lace hands. Smiled in each other's eyes.

 _Shut up and dance!_

Ariel let Jim Hawkins lead.

 _Oh don't you dare look back_

 _Just keep your eyes on me_

 _I said you're holding back_

 _She said shut up and dance with me!_

 _This woman is my destiny_

 _She said oh oh oh_

 _Shut up and dance with me!_

 _Oh oh oh shut up dance with me!_

 _Oh oh oh shut up dance with me!_

The song played. Ariel and Jim danced to their second dance.

And they kept dancing – through the end of the song and into the commercials.

"Okay!" Jim halted. He picked Ariel off the floor. "Come here babe—"

Ariel pounced. She kicked off a chair and attacked Jim like a shark. They kissed ferociously. So ferociously, Jim tripped over a loveseat and slammed onto his back, Ariel on top.

Unperturbed, they continued to kiss.

Until…

" _Ah – hem_!"

Jim tried to look up.

"Ariel – "

She kissed, cutting him off.

Jim tried again.

"Ariel – "

She dove, kissing every inch of his lips.

Then another voice demanded:

"Ariel!"

Ariel stopped. Jim twisted his head. He looked up.

Admiral Triton, Petty Officer Sebastian, and Captain Eric (all upside down) glared back.

Morph squiggled from Jim's pocket. "Uh oh!"

"That – " growled Admiral Triton, "—is an understatement." He scowled at Jim. " _Get off_ my daughter."

Jim lifted his hands. He decided _not_ to point out that the admiral's _daughter_ was _actually_ on top of him.

Ariel slid sideways. Humorously she pecked Jim's cheek.

"Sorry—" Jim patted the overturned loveseat. He shifted as Ariel kissed his neck. "We got –er – excited."

Ariel giggled silently into his ear. Eric scowled. Sebastian gagged. Jim waited for Admiral Triton to kill him.

"Hawkins…." Admiral Triton stepped. "Could you explain why your _ship_ is smoking in my ocean?"

Jim glanced at Morph. The opportunity was priceless.

He nodded at Ariel. "Don't you mean _her_ ocean?"

Admiral Triton contorted. In Jim's estimation, he had about three seconds to left to live.

"You – " Admiral Triton pointed at Jim. "—you're under arrest. And you – "

Smiling, Admiral Triton opened his arms to Ariel. "Hug. On the double."


	20. Chapter 20: Mother Knows Best

**Chapter 20: Mother Knows Best**

John Darling was –

Oops. Sorry. Let's try that again.

 _Mister_ John Darling was a starchy prude. He was a snoot and he was a snob. His suits: tailored. His shoes: polished. His glasses: spotless. His umbrella: black. His hat: a top. His timing: punctual. His ethics: faultless. His mantra: _I rule. You drool._

Mister John Darling was _also_ the youngest Minister of Finance in the _history_ of Fantasia. Period. Valedictorian of his class and fiscal wizard, Mister John Darling was the royal economic adviser. He was responsible for tax policies, domestic finance, international trade, intranational debt, and all legal tender.

In a word: _John controlled da money!_

And, he was only nineteen.

Minister of Finance was a big job for a nineteen year old. But John performed it impeccably. Some would argue o _bsessively_. Still it was a big job. So most people forgave Mister John Darling for being a snooty, snobby, starchy prude.

Most.

"Michael. Mother Sarah. Is this _really_ necessary?"

Michael clamped John's hands. Sarah Hawkins blindfolded John with his silk tie. Then she pulled his top hat over his eyes – just in case. Together they steered John into the kitchen.

"It certainly is!" Sarah motioned, and Michael help her turn John in circles. "Michael and I have a surprise!"

"A big surprise!" Michael said. "A very, very, super, awesome, huge big surprise!"

"In a very small package!" Sarah added. "Okay Michael, enough spinning. Bring him over here."

John staggered as they lead. Unenthusiastically he sniffed.

"I smell pizza."

"Yep, yep, yep!" Michael piped. "Pepperoni and _triple_ cheese!"

"God save the king. We'll all have indigestion. What's the occasion?"

Michael jumped off his coat tails.

"We told you John! The _surprise_!"

John reached for the blindfold. "Michael is terribly droll. Can I take this off now – "

"No, no! Wait! Just two more steps! Okay – " Michael squirmed with excitement. "Ready Mama Sarah?"

Sarah readied the blindefold. "On your count Michael."

"Okay! Ready John?"

"Michael I was born ready – "

"Then in onnnne…..twwoooo….." Michael clapped his hands. "THREE!"

Sarah whipped off the blindfold.

"Surprise!"

John adjusted his glasses. Apathetically he looked at the "surprise."

He blinked.

He blinked again.

He blined again, again, again.

And then –

"AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH! WENDY!"

\- And then Mister John Darling tackled his sister in a most un-ministerly display of brotherly love. Michael leapt and rode piggy back. Sarah somehow embraced all three. Dr. Doppler and Captain Amelia arrived with their four children. And Tony delivered more takeout pizza. It was going to be long happy night.

"You're tall!" Wendy stood back to back with John. "John you're _so_ _tall_!"

"And you!" John measured with his umbrella. "You're so short! And Wendy what on earth are you wearing? Is that a bowler?"

"Yes!"

"I. LOVE. IT."

"John! John!" Michael skipped over the Doppler quadruplets. "John tell Wendy what you did! With Tigerlily! Tell Wendy what you did!"

"Ah. Yes. Well." Bashfully John grinned. "I proposed."

Wendy almost squealed. "John! You _did_? You _didn't_! You _did_?"

"Yes." Solemnly John removed his hat. "I did."

Wendy actually squealed. "Congratulations!"

" _Complimenti_!" Tony thumped John's back. (Tony had decided to stay. A party is not a party without a Tony). " _Tanti_ _auguri_!"

John's top hat tumbled off his head and into the pizza box. Wendy tried not to laugh.

"When is the wedding?" she asked.

"July thirteenth. Midsummer." Distastefully, John picked pepperoni from his hat. Wendy handed him a napkin. He nodded in thanks. "When the tiger lilies are in bloom."

"Aw." Wendy beamed. "John was that your idea?"

"Certainly."

"Aw!"

"Well no aws, about it!" John buffed his brim. "I think the date is a _little_ premature _myself_. But Tigerlily was insistent. Very unlike her by the way. Normally she's patient as spider. However, I had a _time_ convincing her to wait a year."

"You've been engaged for a year?" Wendy said.

"Yes." Sarah cleared plastic plates. "A whole year. Wendy I hope you'll side with me on this one – John's earned a steady income since graduation. He could have married the second he got out of school. Can you imagine – "

Teasingly, Sarah bopped John's top hat.

"—being engaged for a whole year! Poor Tigerlily. Wendy can you believe?"

Wendy fought a blush. Peter's proposal nibbled the back of her mind. "Yes. A year does seem an awfully long time to be engaged."

Sarah noticed the blush. However, as Wendy averted eye contact, she addressed it with nothing more than a raised brow.

Tony was more direct. After all: _Amore_ – it was a favorite subject of Italians (besides food).

"Guendalina! Ay! What-a Underworld boy has your heart?"

John and Michael zapped to attention.

That time, Wendy positively blushed.

"Oh – well. None. I'm busy," she squeezed her napkin under the table. "– very busy."

Michael started to giggle. "She's all red!"

"And stuttering." John said.

"Oh come now!" Dr. Doppler winked at Captain Amelia. "I was down in the Underworld, remember! Mighty fine number of pixies and engineering lads down there!"

"Oh Delbert, pish posh." Captain Amelia scraped cheese from her son's hair. "Young policymaking women don't need companionship. They need work."

"Ay! But for-a pretty bambolina!" Tony brandished the parmesan shaker at Wendy. "All-a work and-a no play makes Guendalina a dull-a girl!"

"What about Peter?" Michael suddenly asked. "Remember? I remember! John don't you remember? Remember when he gave Wendy that big fat ki – "

"Okay! Wow! Kids, look at the time! Is it midnight already?" Glancing quickly at Wendy, Sarah bustled Michael and John upstairs. "Come on now. Off to bed."

"Bed?!" Michael clung to Wendy's arm. "But she just got here! And Jim! What about Jim?"

"Ay!" Tony motioned. "Guendalina! Where shall Giacomo be?"

"Yes!" agreed Dr. Doppler. "Where is Jim?"

"Jim?" Relieved the conversation had centered off her romantic life, Wendy shook her head. "I don't know. But I _wish_ he would come. I've missed him. So much."

Sarah smiled pityingly. She had been watching Wendy all night. And when Wendy hadn't been laughing with her brothers, she'd been glancing at the door. Glancing, and waiting, for Jim.

"Well. Since Wendy doesn't have school or work tomorrow – she can help me clean up. The rest of you – " Sarah spanked Michael and kissed John "—go to bed!

"Night Wendy!" Michael gave Wendy a bear hug. John joined. "See you after school tomorrow, okay?"

Wendy kissed them both. "All right. I'll be here."

"Promise?"

"Promise."

"Yes! I'll tell Lilo! I love you! Night!"

As Sarah bid farewell to Tony and The Dopplers, Wendy cleared the table. A little sad that Michael hadn't asked for a bedtime story, Wendy was nonetheless in high spirits when Sarah returned.

"Oh honey! I didn't _actually_ mean for you to clean!" Sarah pulled a chair. "Sit. It's been six years! We're going to talk."

Wendy stacked the last pizza box. "About what?"

Sarah patted the chair. "Anything you want."

It was a small gesture. But it was _exactly_ what Wendy needed. After six years of adventure, loneliness, failures, and victories, all she needed was the opportunity to _talk_. She talked about everything from the Underworld, to dragons, to Tinkerbell, to chasing shadows. Several private items were omitted (namely, Peter Pan), but after she was through, Wendy felt lighter than air.

Sarah smiled. "Feel better?"

"Yes." Wendy sighed. " _Yes_. Sarah. Thank you."

"Oh honey. It was nothing."

"No." Wendy took her hand. "Sarah. _Thank_ _you_."

Wendy meant her thanks. Wholeheartedly. She loved her own mother and grieved her passing every day. However, Mrs. Hawkins was the best mother in the world. And Wendy wanted her to know.

"Well. You are welcome." Sarah said. "I figured a good long talk would be therapeutic. Especially after today. That was a circus! Wendy you surprised us all!"

"I was surprised too." Wendy said. " _Goodness_. Sarah – Michael is so big!"

"He shot right up." Sarah agreed.

"And those bracelets. Those Hawaiian bracelets he wears." Wendy leaned. "Are Michael and Lilo, um…an item?"

Sarah clicked her tongue. "They _think_ they are. But I told Michael: No dating until he's fourteen. After all, John was seeing Tigerlily when he was thirteen. And...you had your first date when you were fifteen."

Sarah waited for Wendy's embarrassment to pass.

"I figured fourteen was fair."

Wendy brushed her hair. "Very fair."

"So." Sarah kindly changed the subject. "Why did the king call? Have you seen him? Delbert said something about a heart attack?"

Wendy's disquiet returned. "No I don't know. They wouldn't let me see King Arthur. But I am worried Sarah."

"You _are_ an agonizer."

"No, no. It's just that I saw Master Merlin when I arrived. And he said that King Arthur would have a heart attack before it actually happened. Then he disappeared."

"Disappeared?"

"Just like that. What's more…" Wendy rubbed her hat. "No one seems to know why King Arthur called. From what I gather – things are going splendidly."

Sarah nodded. "Everything is pretty peaceful. Hm. Then I wonder why you were called. The guardians protect Fantasia. You would think that there would be something to protect against."

Wendy shrugged. "Maybe it's a checkup? You know - just to make sure the realms are running smoothly? Oh, which reminds me – I must ask Tinkerbell if that dragon got out all right. And Doc, oh goodness. I missed the evening report."

Sarah chuckled gently.

"What?" Wendy smiled.

"You're so adorable when you talk executive."

Wendy could appreciate the humor.

"I suppose I am a tad out of character." she admitted. "But Sarah, how have you been? You look marvelous. Are you still working at _Tiana's_ _Palace_?"

Sarah nodded. She'd sold The Benbow's land rights to Tiana. In exchange, Tiana had hired her as general manager. "Tia hasn't fired me yet."

"I shouldn't think so." Wendy said. "But do you enjoy it? Do you have any free time?"

Sarah laughed. "More than I _did_. Eudora – Tiana's mother – and I have girls night every Thursday. We used to do that with your mother you know. Just the three of us."

Wendy was delighted. And intrigued. "Really? What did you do?"

"Oh you know." Sarah waved. "Girl stuff. Watch movies, sneak into clubs, talk about boys."

"Did…" Wendy rubbed her knee. "Did she talk about my father?"

Sarah paused. George Darling had gone insane after his wife's death. The insanity lead to drinking, and the drinking lead to…well. Death and unhappiness. Mr. Darling had died a traitor to his country _and_ to his children. But, Wendy still mourned him. And she loved him.

"All the time." Sarah answered. "Mary loved George. Very much."

Wendy smiled appreciatively. But as she spoke, Sarah thought she saw Wendy's eyes flicker ink-black. Strange.

"So…" Wendy joked. "Do you and Eudora watch movies, sneak into clubs, and talk about boys now?"

"Well," Sarah grinned. "Lately it's been movies. And old lady clubs. But…well no boys. Eudora still loves James, even though he's passed. And…"

Sarah curled her ring finger. "I _am_ still married."

"Oh." Wendy started. Sarah never spoke of Sinbad. Never. Her comment was startling. "Oh Sarah I'm sorry. I didn't mean to pry."

"You didn't." Sarah said matter-of-factly. "The Benbow fire was liberating in a way. Burning old memories – starting new ones. Like…your brothers."

Sarah gazed up the stairs. "Michael and John are…well…I love every day. They are good boys. Very sweet. Very respectable. Very sincere. I know you took over when Mary died. And I know it was a load. But they are good, _good_ boys, Wendy. You did a good job."

Wendy spoke from the bottom of her heart. "Thank you for taking care of them."

"Of course. I only wish you could have been here. Then I could have taken care of you too. Speaking of which – "

Sarah frowned. "Wendy are you eating?"

Wendy was surprised. "Yes. Of course."

"Three meals a day?"

"When I have time."

It was clearly the wrong answer.

"Hm." Sarah said. "Well you'll eat here. We still have two boxes of pizza left. But that's not all. Wendy – and the truth this time – are you sleeping?"

"…what?"

"Are you sleeping?" Sarah repeated. "Wendy you look wonderful, so grown up but….Honey. Oh honey you look _tired_. Are you sleeping?"

Wendy paused. She traced the circlet on her bowler.

"I…have nightmares."

"How often?"

"Frequently. Of late. They're…" Wendy sighed. "…they're very convincing."

Sarah leaned back. She contemplated Wendy for a moment. Then she glanced at the door.

"Hm. Well. All right. I'm going to make a decision. I know you're waiting for Jim. But it's almost two in the morning. Wendy – you need to sleep."

Of course there was an argument. But Sarah said ' _no ifs ands or buts_ ' and Wendy obeyed. Sarah supplied of pair of John's laundered pajama pants; Wendy rolled the waistband five times; tucked them under her camisole; and snuggled into bed.

"Will you call me?" Wendy breathed into the pillow, already sinking into sleep. "If Jim comes?"

Sarah kissed her goodnight. "You can see him in the morning. Now. Time for bed."

"…all right. Please….just call me…if he comes…"

Sarah switched the light. She bade Wendy goodnight. She crept downstairs. She stored the leftover pizza. And as she settled to wait for Jim, there was a _rap rap rap_ at the door.

It was the Fantasian police department.

"Mrs. Hawkins. This perpetrator claims he's related to you."

Sarah couldn't help but laugh.

"Jim!"


	21. Chapter 21: Don't Be Afraid of the Dark

**Chapter 21: Don't Be Afraid of the Dark**

Wendy tried not to fall asleep. But as the minutes ticked by _without_ an appearance from Jim, she slowly...started...drifting...

"Ouch."

Something shoved her shoulder. The shove was accompanied by an unhappy memory.

"Oh dear." Wendy switched the bedside lamp. The light spread, revealing Peter's shadow.

The shadow was grumpy. The shadow was jealous. And the shadow felt terribly neglected.

"I'm sorry." Wendy apologized. Hanging upside-down, she followed the shadow under the bed. "I didn't mean to ignore you downstairs. I know it's just been you and me for a while. But they are my family. And I've missed them so. Didn't you have fun?"

The shadow crossed it's arms. _No._

Wendy tilted. Her curls grazed the floor.

"Shadow. Please don't be cross."

The shadow sulked. It kicked the mattress angrily. Wendy jounced as it kicked again.

"Ohh. Come on now." Playfully Wendy reached under the bed. "Is someone a little fussy?"

The shadow made goalposts. _No._ _Someone was BIG fussy._

"Is there anything I can do?"

The shadow pointed down. _Down. Down. Down. The Underworld._

Wendy's cheerfulness died.

"Oh. Well. Don't worry." She eased into bed. "I'm sure they'll send us back to the Underworld." She sighed unhappily at the ceiling. "Again."

The shadow appeared over her head. Gleefully it pointed to itself and then to Wendy.

"Yes." Wendy tried to smile. "Just you and me."

The shadow somersaulted. Merrily it sailed back under the bed.

It kicked the mattress. _Goodnight_.

Wendy thumped a foot in return. "Goodnight."

And Wendy _was_ sure it was going to be a ' _good_ _night_.' Her brothers were healthy, her belly was full of pizza, and her thoughts were outrageously happy. _Indisputably_ – there would be _no_ nightmares tonight.

Moreover, as Wendy ebbed into dreamland (you know, that place between sleep and awake) she heard a voice. The voice blurred in and out like a poorly tuned radio – but it was _very_ familiar.

"Is...is that her?"

"Yes. Oh no honey, don't go in. Let her sleep. She looked so tired when she came. Exhausted. Something about nightmares. No, no don't go in – "

Footsteps. They stopped at the edge of her bed.

"Wow. Six years. I can't believe it."

Silence. A hand touched her bow.

"I missed her."

Again silence.

Then: "Come on Jim. You can see her in the morning."

"Kay. Okay. Just—"

A swift kiss on her head. Then the voices were gone.

Wendy smiled in her sleep. _Jim. Jim was home._ She dropped confidently into her dreams. _Go ahead nightmares. Do your worst._

It was a dangerous challenge.

Because her nightmares did more than their worst

They did much, _much_ worse.

...

 _She was in the Underworld. Chasing nightmares. There were hundreds of them, thousands. Children were crying so hard she could hear them underground. They were afraid. Afraid of the shadows. Afraid of the nightmares. Afraid of the dark._

 _Corkscrew in one hand and pixie dust in the other, she drilled under beds. Desperately she cranked, faster and faster until her shoulder ached and her fingers hurt. She looked under her arm. The bedrock was glutted with holes._

 _Suddenly nightmares plunged through the holes. They dripped like blood, smeared like smoke, and splashed into her face. They crawled into her mouth, oozed into her nose, and pried open her brain._

 _She fell. She fell and someone caught her. A man with sucked-in eye sockets and a long, sickled hook._

 _Captain Hook._

 _The pirate grinned. Then, he punched the hook through her stomach. Her insides popped as the hook ripped up her chest and into her mouth._

 _She screamed. And as she screamed she felt the metal gouging her tongue and palate– stabbing and stabbing and bleeding and bleeding and screaming and screaming –_

 _..._

Wendy screamed, chest burning with the strain.

 _"STOP!STOP!STOP!STOP!"_

"Wen!"

Someone grabbed her, shook her shoulders.

"Wen wake up!"

She fought.

"STOP! STO –"

"Wen wake up, it's a dream! Wen wake –"

"DON'T! STOP! STOP!"

" _Wendy_! It's me! Wen – Wen – _Wen_ – "

"Sto – st—- _Jim_?"

Her head was throbbing, her throat was stinging, and her lungs were raw and red from screaming. She was sobbing, gasping; she couldn't breathe, she couldn't see.

Two hands cupped her cheeks. They were cool and steady.

"Wen. _It's me_."

Blindly Wendy stared. Then she cried into Jim's arms.

Jim held her. Calmly, he rocked.

"I've got you. I've got you." He squeezed, making sure she knew. "It's okay. I'm here. I'm right here."

Deftly, Jim adjusted a pillow. Cradling Wendy against him, he lay down. "I'll stay right here."

Gently he rubbed her hair. "Go back to sleep."

* * *

 **...**

 **Big4girl poem:**

 _ **Darkness travels along the night, opening windows to reveal the light, but nightmares creep inside, making me cry, scared, wanting to hide. But there is one person who'll stay by my side as I scream and kick, there he'll reside. I hope he never leaves me again, he is my very best friend.**_

 **...**


	22. Chapter 22: You Could Have Cared

**Chapter 22: You Could Have Cared**

Jack Frost's life had taken an unexpected upturn. He had three priorities:

(1) Hang with Elsa.

(2) Ditch the guardians.

(3) When possible, accomplish priorities 1 and 2 simultaneously.

It was heaven. For one, Jack knew his affair was driving the guardians crazy (especially Bunny). They chased him here, they chased him there, and they chased and chased him everywhere! But Jack _always_ escaped! And hilariously, North never _quite_ comprehended how Jack could hear them coming: jingle bells. Dead giveaway.

Plus, Tooth was Jack's accomplice in crime. It was EPIC. Jack and Tooth staged imaginary fights.

In these imaginary fights, Tooth demanded that Jack return to The Otherland; Jack blatantly refused; Tooth insulted his teeth; Jack threw a slow motion punch; Tooth socked his sorry butt back to Fantasia; later they would high five.

See? Epic.

But the best part was Elsa. Jack quickly learned that Elsa had _no_ ideahow to have fun! She didn't think she deserved it, so she was lousy at it. So, Jack decided to teach her how to have good clean (and unclean) fun.

And _that_ was a heavenly endeavor.

"I still think sledding down a castle tower is illegal."

Jack laughed. And then he agreed.

"Of course it is!" Staff tucked underarm, he helped Elsa through the window. "But what's the point if it's legal?"

Elsa lowered. Balancing against Jack's hands, she replied to her own comment. "But, I guess breaking the law is half the fun. Right?"

Jack's smile shot of his face. Elsa had echoed his answer. That had been happening more often. Although she couldn't hear him, Elsa carried their conversations as if she could read his mind. She anticipated Jack's thoughts and restated his responses with unnerving accuracy.

It was exciting: Jack and Elsa were getting to know each other. They were even _predicting_ each other. Little by little, step by step. And if Tooth's was right, then maybe - MAYBE - Elsa would eventually see Jack (outside of her mind's eye). All Elsa needed to do was _believe_. And she was believing in Jack more and more every day.

Jack squeezed Elsa's fingers. Elsa felt the cold and squeezed back.

"Elsa." Without releasing hands, Jack stepped forward. He moved close enough to nip her nose. "Elsa. _See me_.

Elsa curled her fingers. She uncurled, and flexed again, probing his web spaces. Then performing a mental body scan, Elsa suddenly looked straight into Jack's eyes.

"Jack. Are you...right there?"

Jack clenched his fingers. Elsa clenched back.

Slowly, they started to lean...

"Interesting mime, Your Grace."

Ice spurted from Elsa's fingers. Frost crinkled from Jack's staff. Startled, they turned to an enormous man filling the doorway. The man was speckled in their ice and frost. He looked like a dinosaur from the Ice Ages.

"Agent Bubbles." Elsa clasped hands behind her back. Momentarily she followed Jack's frost trail up the ceiling. "I - I didn't hear you knock."

Cobra Bubbles removed his sunglasses. Unemotionally he wiped them clean.

"Didn't."

"Didn't?"

"Didn't knock."

"Oh. Oh. Well. Next time could you -"

"King had a heart attack."

Elsa stuttered. "What?"

Agent Bubbles donned his espionage sunglasses. Agent Cobra Bubbles (formally Mr. Bubbles the high school guidance counselor) was the chief of Fantasia's secret service. He was also King Arthur's body guard. Seven feet tall with fists of iron and nerves of steel, Agent Cobra Bubbles was a walking atom bomb.

No body messed with Cobra. Not even... _invisible_ nobodies.

Agent Bubbles switched his glasses to infrared. Adjusting the filters, he focused on a frosty spot spiraling in the corner ceiling.

Jack froze. Literally and figuratively. As Agent Bubbles scanned for heat signals, Jack crossed his eyes. He stuck out his tongue. He blew Agent Bubbles a kiss.

Nothing. No reaction.

Jack sighed. He couldn't _even_ get apprehended because he was invisible. _Life sucked._ Dismally, Jack slouched to the window ledge.

Agent Bubbles _hmphed_. Still suspicious, he returned to Elsa.

"King Arthur had a heart attack this afternoon. Waiting for you as a matter of fact..."

Elsa bristled. Jack peered. Ice crystals were prickling under her fingertips.

"I apologize. I didn't know." Elsa's voice hardened. "I was busy."

"Doing what?"

"Nothing." Elsa glanced at the frosty ceiling. "I was out."

"Out?"

"Yes. Out."

"With whom?"

Elsa paused. "No one." she finally said. "I was just out."

Pain pulled across Jack's chest. He knew the lie was the right answer, but he wished Elsa had admitted she'd been 'out' with him. It would have been one step closer to reality and farther from fantasy. For both of them.

Agent Bubbles tapped his frames. A screen revolved behind the black lenses.

"I think we better 86 the outings Your Grace. At least not without protection. Especially since the guardians are back."

"The guardians?" Elsa said.

Jack perked. He inched closer as Elsa spoke. "Ariel? Peter? Wendy? Jim? The guardians are back?"

"Rumor has it."

"But, there's nothing wrong. Everything is peaceful. Why are they back?"

"We don't know." Agent Bubbles cracked his knuckles. "And that's the danger. Something's... _up_. And I hate it when things are... _up_. So, I repeat: From now on Your Grace, we 86 the outings. Too risky."

Elsa flinched. "Please - don't call me Your Grace. I'm not married to _him_ yet. And what do you mean _86 the outings_? What does 86 mean?"

Agent Bubbles sliced a hand across his neck. " _Schlick_."

Jack leapt. "That's not fair!"

"No going out by myself? None? At all?" Ice slivered from Elsa's palms. "But that's not fair!

"No." Agent Bubbles agreed. "It's protocol. As the future queen - "

Ice cracked from Elsa's palms. "I'm _not_ the queen!"

"I said _future_ queen - "

"She's not that either!" Furiously Jack swung his staff. Frost spackled the floor. "She's got her own future!"

"As future queen - " Agent Bubbles' continued, shielding an arm against the frost "-you have natural enemies, by virtue of your position. You also have expectations, _such as_ visiting your future husband _after - he - has - a-heart-_ _attack_!"

Elsa stiffened. Even Jack lowered his staff.

"It would have been nice..." Agent Bubbles said softly. "...if you had gone to see him. Called. Dropped in. Sent a message...Cared at all."

Elsa trembled. Cold radiated from her body. The cold bit. It stung.

Agent Bubbles made his exit.

"Remember..." he said, closing the door. "...you're not the only one in this arranged marriage. There are two of you. But only one of you is trying. And he is very, _very_ alone."

 _Click._ The door shut.

And Elsa exploded. White nails burst from her body. A blizzard blew from her scream. And as she crumbled, snowflake tears fell from her eyes.

She was trapped. She was trapped in guilt, obligation, resentment, and utter self loathing.

Jack watched. He watched the ice and snow detonate. He watched the storm swirl inside Elsa's head.

Then he made a snowball.

"Here." Crouching before Elsa, Jack tossed the snowball. "Here. Take it."

Hollowly Elsa looked. "...what?"

Jack drew Elsa's wrist. He cupped the snowball in her hand. Then, he strode to the door. Icing the panel, he carved a crown into the frost.

"Throw. Get it all out." Jack rapped the door with his staff. "Let it go."

Elsa did not hear Jack. But as he spoke, she clenched the snowball. She squeezed until it was hard as a rock.

Then she threw.

 _Smatt_. The snowball hit the crown. Dead center.

Jack made another snowball. He rolled it to Elsa.

"Again. Let it go."

Elsa threw. Harder. _Smatt!_

Two more snowballs. _Smatt! Smatt!_

Three more. _Smatt! Smatt! Smatt!_

An cartridge of snowballs. Elsa fired them like bullets. She pelted the crown until it was plastered with snow.

"I care - "

 _Smatt!_

"-I do!"

 _Smatt!_

"I just -!"

 _Smatt!_

"Can't-"

Smatt!

"MARRY - "

Jack caught Elsa as she collapsed. Her tears twinkled into his chest.

"...the king." Elsa whispered. "I can't...marry...the king."

Jack didn't know what to say. He could only warm Elsa with his cold heart.

"Just let it go Elsa..." Jack breathed into her ear. "Just let it go."

And Elsa, although he could not see him, breathed back.

"Jack...I can't. I can't let it go. _I can't_."

* * *

 **...**

 **Big4girl poem:**

 _ **They can push and shove, but they can't make me love, someone I barely know. So I can't let it go, because they're counting on me to make them all see, the good of the kingdom is rested and free, but they can't make me love him, they can't make me, it's not who I want to be.**_

 **...**


	23. Chapter 23: Best Friends Forever

**Chapter 23: Best Friends Forever**

 _Was it a dream?_

Wendy rolled her head. It was heavy, like a dead weight. Her neck creaked. A rancid pizza aftertaste covered her tongue. _Ugh._ _Had she gotten sick? On Jim?_

Wendy cringed. Opening her eyes, she reached stiffly across the bed.

But there was no one. No one was there. And certainly not Jim.

She wondered again. _Had it been a dream?_

Wendy sagged. She lay for a moment, disappointed and exhausted. The night had passed roughly. Her first nightmare had returned for third, forth, and fifth helpings. It was joined by swarms of unhappy memories. To her recollection, Wendy spent most of the night screaming.

But she could have _sworn_ someone had been there. Someone calming her when she jolted awake. Someone supporting her forehead over the bathroom toilet. Someone carrying her back to bed and telling her to go back to sleep.

Wendy stared at the empty blankets. _Hadn't_ there been someone? She thought there was. And she thought it was Jim.

Laboriously, Wendy turned. It was still early morning. Time to get up. She reached for the bedside lamp.

Then she stopped.

The lamp had been moved. On the bedside table was a teacup on a mug-warmer, and a plate of dry toast. The tea was peppermint - her favorite. The toast was cut down the center - diagonally. And propped against the plate was a note.

 **Morning. EAT.**

Wendy read the penmanship before she read the words.

"Jim!"

She jumped out of bed. She thundered downstairs, pajamas and all, darted past the breakfast table, flew by her family, sprint down the hallway, cut left -

"Wrong turn!" Michael and John yelled.

-backtracked, cut right, cut left, out the door, into the autumn sunshine -

And there he was: back to her, hunched over some sort of smoking machine, silly rattail between his shoulders.

Jim turned before Wendy spoke.

Wendy ran before he did.

"Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh Wen!" Jim scrambled away. Beaming, he stumbled as she chased him around the machine (a motorcycle). "Wen I'm covered in grease!"

He was. He was filthy with grease. And it got all over her when she leapt into Jim's arms and kissed his cheek.

* * *

 **...**

 **Big4girl poem:**

 _ **Jim. Jim is his name, and no he isn't my him. Jim is my friend, my very best one at that. H**_

 _ **andsome he may be, I have no desire for him to belong to me. I love Jim, though not in that way. I love Jim as a brother, and I hope here he'll stay.**_

 **...**

* * *

 **sultal's note: this chap was originally suppose to be MUCH longer - but I decided to stop it here. Seemed right. I friggin love these two - sometimes a relationship between people that "get" each other can be more powerful than romance. We'll return to jim and wen in the next chapter.**


	24. Chapter 24: Show and Tell

**Chapter 24: Show and Tell**

 _"_ Stop _!"_

 _"You_ stop!"

"Hold still!"

" _You_ hold still!"

Wendy and Jim were a little giddy. And understandably so. They had been a _long_ time apart; too long for best friends. Regardless, time had not passed long enough to break their bond. Wendy and Jim reconnected instantly. For the first time in six years, they felt _whole_.

However, their relationship was not without change. Wendy and Jim walked around each other in wonderment, exploring for differences and looking for similarities. But, as any astronomer knows, it's hard to study a body in motion.

"Stop moving!"

" _You_ stop moving!"

"I can't see!"

"Well _I_ can't see!"

"Wen!"

"Jim!"

"Okay – every that's not a boy: halt."

"No!" Laughing, Wendy ducked as Jim reached for her hat (She had dressed. John had almost fainted at the sight of grease on his pajamas. They were promptly laundered). "You stand still Jim Hawkins! Ladies first."

"Busted on gender typing. Okay." Jim stepped back. "Shoot."

Wendy looked. Chin to finger, she tilted her head and observed.

Jim had grown. He was a triangle, wilted sharply down from wide shoulders to trim waist. His arms looked like they wrestled comets; and over the left deltoid, Wendy glimpsed something that looked suspiciously like a tattoo. She decided to ask later. Jim's hairstyle hadn't _drastically_ changed, his bangs were ratty, and his rattail was rattier. However, across Jim's jaw (which was sharper than ever) was a five o'clock shadow.

Wendy couldn't resist.

"Can I _touch_ it?"

Jim actually laughed. He leaned forward. "Sure."

Wendy rubbed his stubble. "It's prickly!" she giggled. "Very prickly!"

"Trying to grow it out."

"Well that will look nice. Rougish. Jim, is that a –"

"—tattoo? Yeah. Wanna look?"

"Yes!"

Jim pulled his collar. He rotated his shoulder, improving the view. "Just don't tell Mom."

"Hardly." Wendy agreed. She peered at the tattoo. It was a fanged skull with three eyes, surrounded by two elliptical rings. The symbol reminded Wendy of a pirate skull and crossbones.

"What is it?" she asked.

"Intergalactic pirate symbol." Jim replaced his shirt. Lifting his right hand, he pointed to a red scar extended from his middle finger to his wrist. "Remember when Captain Hook gave me this?"

Wendy stiffened. The memory burst like a hot coal in her brain. "Yes."

"Well, turns out Captain Hook did some time in space." Jim tapped his palm. "The red scar is pretty well known – and feared. Aliens see the scar and scram. They think I'm one of Hook's pirates, and pretty much leave me alone. It's great."

Wendy did a double take. "Wait, just a moment. Did you say – _aliens_?"

"Yeah."

"There are aliens in Fantasia's Outerworld?"

"Yeah. But they're trespassing. That's why I'm there."

"Goodness."

"You're telling me."

"So then," Wendy pointed. "Why the tattoo? Don't tell me there are alien pirates."

Jim spread his hands. "Tons."

"Tons?"

"Freaking tons." Jim said. "Wen I'm telling you – Billy Bones must have done some serious shit when he was the Outerworld guardian."

"Language."

"Sorry. Anyway, when I got there, the Outerworld was crawling with pirates. And guess what – they all hate Fantasia. Specifically Billy Bones. So, when they found out I was Billy's replacement – "

Jim finished wryly. "Well. We're not on speaking terms."

Wendy considered. "So is that why you have the tattoo? So the aliens will think you're a pirate?"

"Bingo."

"Dreadfully clever." Wendy congratulated.

Jim shrugged. "Yeah. Looks pretty badass too."

"Language."

"Sorry."

"So how do you travel through space?" Turning, Wendy motioned at Jim's motorcycle. "I didn't see your solar surfer. Do you ride on _this_? Is this a motorcycle?"

"Yeah, sort of." Jim crouched. He caressed the black frame. "This is an antigravity bike."

"Seems self-explanatory." Wendy knelt. She silently marveled as Jim tinkered expertly with the impossible installation. "Antigravity. It...flies?"

Well yeah." Jim jerked as a wire sparked. "But it's a little more complicated than that."

Wendy grinned. He was dying to explain. He probably invented the antigravity feature.

"How so?" she asked sweetly.

Jim did not smile, but Wendy knew he was proud. Very carefully, he explained every mechanical component and scientific theory, ensuring that she understood. But basically Jim's explanation boiled down to Wendy's original guess: the antigravity bike could fly.

"So then I just fused the fender, hood, and front fairing with graphene." Jim stroked the metal casing. "And it was done. Cool huh?"

"Yes." Wendy agreed. "But what is graphene?"

Jim nodded, expecting the question. "Graphene is a metal. Sorta. Not really. Um – you ever take a graphite pencil and swipe it gently across a paper? You know the trail it leaves?"

"Yes."

"Okay _that_ is graphene. One layer. Graphene is a single, extremely small layer of atoms. The atoms are arranged like honeycombs, and that makes them _extremely_ strong."

Wendy glanced at the motorcycle's graphene coat.

"Exactly how strong is _extremely_?" she asked.

"207 times stronger than steel." Jim replied automatically. "And – strong enough to protect me against a shooting star. When I'm wearing my suit."

"Suit?"

"Yeah." Jim waved at the house. "I have a robotic suit. It's fortified with graphene. Cool thing about graphene is that it's flexible. Basically it's like aluminum foil. But, it's tough as nails."

"Interesting." said Wendy. "But why should you need protection against a shooting star?"

"Oh you're going to _love_ this part. Ever make a wish on a shooting star?"

"Certainly."

"Well," said Jim. "About five percent of shooting stars are _actual_ shooting stars. The other ninety-five percent – cannon fire."

"Cannon fire?" Wendy said. "You mean from the aliens? The pirates?"

"Yup. They just take a hunk of meteorite, shove it in a cannon – " Jim spread his fingers. "—and boom. Big explosion. Fake shooting star."

"My goodness."

"It get's better." Jim continued. "All shooting stars travel at supersonic speeds - fake or not. They move so fast, _everything_ burns in their path. Everything _except_ graphene. So if I have to stop a shooting star from burning into Fantasia, the graphene protects me."

Wendy looked up at the sky. She imagined cutthroat pirates blasting shooting stars from their ships.

"Jim." she decided. "That doesn't sound quite safe."

"It's not."

"But don't you have help? Can't someone else stop the shooting stars?"

"Nope. It's just me. Well..." Jim glanced up. Overhead, Morph was chasing Peter's shadow. "Me and Morph."

Wendy shook her head. "Goodness. Do you have a ship?"

Jim grimaced. "To be determined."

"To be determined? Whatever does that mean?"

"It means I crash landed. I've never practiced weighing anchor before – always just sailed through space. But when I got The Call it was...eh...abrupt. Little too abrupt."

"Rather." Wendy agreed.

"Long story short." Jim turned into the ocean breeze. "My ship _and_ my solar surfer are somewhere in the ocean."

"Ooo Jim." Wendy winced. Solar surfers were _extremely_ delicate machines. And from a previous traumatic experience, she and Jim had discovered that water ruins solar sails. "Your solar surfer. Do you think it survived?"

"Probably not. Wanna help me rebuild it?"

"Yes!Of course! Just like old times?"

"Just like old times. Once Ariel fishes it out of the ocean. Thank god she managed to save the bike."

"Oh!" Wendy squealed. "You've seen Ariel! Where is she? Why isn't she here?"

Jim made a face. " _Sisters_ – god those girls are like locus. Ariel wanted to see you, but they took her out shopping or manicures or something. I don't know, it was girl language. I didn't stick around. Admiral Triton still hates my guts."

Wendy was too excited to be sympathetic. "How is Ariel? How does she look? And her voice?"

"Still silent." Jim said. "But...uh...she looks great. Grownup. But... _really_ great."

Wendy suppressed an _awwwwww_. Jim's smile was _enormous_. There was even a twinkle in his teal-grey eyes.

Wendy beamed. _Jim was so adorably in love_. Ever the shameless romantic, she sighed.

Jim noticed.

"Okay, okay. Show and tell is over. My turn. Let me look at you."

"All right." Wendy clasped her hands together. "Go ahead."

Jim appraised.

"I like the hat." he said.

"Thank you." she replied.

"And the boots."

"Thank you again."

"Corset is cute – very you."

"Thank you once more."

"Where's the bow?"

"Under the hat."

"Ah. Make's sense. And..." Jim considered. His mouth twitched. He almost laughed. "Geeze."

Wendy touched her shoulders. She looked down. "What?"

"Sorry it's just..." Jim shrugged. "You still look like twelve year old."

"Jim!" Wendy pushed good-naturedly. "I was complimentary to you!"

"It _is_ a compliment." said Jim. "I'm just surprised. After everything I've heard about the Underworld – I was expecting a bitchy executive."

"Language."

"My bad."

"What did you hear about the Underworld?" Wendy asked, perplexed. "And _when_ for that matter? You've only just arrived."

"Doc." Jim said, referring to Doctor Doppler. "He came by this morning. Apparently he went down to the Underworld. Year or two ago? _Raved_ about it. Is it really a whole city of machines? Gears and cogs?"

Wendy nodded, a little proudly. "Powered by pixie dust."

"Yeah Doc mentioned something about that. Makes sense though, remember the War Games?"

"When you used pixie dust to fly the broken surfboard? At the finish line?"

"Yeah."

"That's what I thought!" Wendy exclaimed. "The energy! At first I thought we could use the dragons – you know, steam and all. But the dragons are so reprehensible and pixie dust is so much more efficient! And it works! The pixie dust flows through Big B.E.N., the clock tower, and fuels the city!"

"Hm." Jim massaged his jaw. "Interesting. Well here's a question. I'm trying to build a space port. You know a space station. It's called Montressor, and it's almost finished. But I need power. You think pixie dust would work?"

"Why not?" Wendy said. The prospect of collaborating with Jim was thrilling. "Pixie dust applications are limitless! The dust neutralizes shadows, and I've only just started to experiment with nightmares – "

"What?"

"Oh um." Wendy fumbled. Embarrassed, she remembered the previous night. "Oh well. It's nothing really. I just use pixie dust stop nightmares. That's all."

Jim raised a brow. "That's all, is it?"

"Yes..." Wendy proceeded carefully. Desperate for a graceful exit, she took the educational route. "It's actually very practical. Nightmares and pixie dust counterbalance each other, you see. Whenever I hear a child having a nightmare, I just drill a hole through the ground – "

Jim frowned.

"—Peter's shadow brings me the nightmare—"

His frown deepened.

"—and I just sew on pixie dust to stop it. With my needle and thread."

Wendy displayed her hand guard. "See? Sweet and simple. Harmless."

Jim regarded her with crossed arms.

"Wasn't harmless last night. Never saw so much puke in my life."

 _Lovely Jim. Blunt as ever._

Wendy bit her lip.

"I um. I'm sorry that – I hope you weren't...smattered on."

Jim snorted. "Elegant way to say it."

Wendy wrung her hands. "Jim..."

"Wendy is that normal?"

She paused. _He called her Wendy. That was not good. She was in dangerous waters._

"It's...just a dream." Wendy said, praying he would accept an evasive answer. "It's only a bad dream. It's part of my job, I suppose. Occupational hazard. After all shadows make nightmares, and I am a shadow worker. I work with shadows. Heavens,I live with one."

Jim glowered at Peter's shadow. "Yeah. Meant to talk about _that_ too."

"Well—" Wendy ruffled her skirt. She forced a bright smile. "Well that's an awful waste of time! He's just a silly shadow – harmless as a daffodil. But I don't want to talk about that! Jim it's been six years! There are hundreds of other things we need to talk about, hundreds of things we need to do! I feel like I've been in a bubble. I haven't seen or heard anything from anyone! Not from you, or from Ariel, or from Pe – "

Wendy stopped. Suddenly it occurred to her: Peter was back. She'd been so excited to see Jim, she'd forgotten. Peter must have also returned. She would _actually_ get to see him.

And he would get to see her.

Jim spoke. "I'm assuming you haven't seen Pan yet?"

"...no. Not yet."

Jim studied her. Darkly he sat, boots hanging off Pirate's Point. "Can't say I'm heartbroken."

Quietly Wendy joined him. She stared into the ocean. "I...can't say I'm not."

They shared a silence. Finally Wendy's ventured.

"...have... _you_ seen him?"

Jim grunted. "Unfortunately. He broke into the Outerworld."

Wendy turned, surprised. "He did? How?"

"Not sure." Jim threw a stone. The ocean gargled it up. "But there was this white haired kid with him. It was weird – the kid controlled ice or something with some sort of staff. And...they were messing with the star."

Wendy frowned. "You mean the Wishing Star?"

"Yeah." Jim knuckled the ground. Frustrated, he shook his head. "There's something wrong with the Wishing Star,Wen. I don't know what...but _something_ is wrong. And Peter screwing with it is the _last_ thing I need. Idiot."

Wendy did not respond. Uneasily, she rolled a pebble under her palm.

"How did he look?"

"Speak up."

"Peter." Wendy cleared her throat. "Did Peter look well? Healthy? Happy? Safe?"

Jim softened, just for a second. "You haven't heard from him? For six years? At all?"

"...no."

"Did you try?"

"...he didn't answer."

Jim scoffed. Wendy imagined what he was thinking and didn't favor a single response.

"But it doesn't matter." Wendy lifted her head. "I hardly noticed after a while. You know...I kept busy."

Jim stared. Haggardly, he sighed.

"Yeah. I'm sure you did, Wen. I'm _sure_ you did."

It was awful. Jim spoke sympathetically, almost with pity. It was as if he were confirming her doubts – Peter hadn't answered, because he didn't care. Wendy felt worse – she wished Jim would rebuke her instead.

Suddenly, Jim nudged her. "Hey. You just had a birthday."

Wendy was unsure how to respond. "I did."

"Happy Birthday. Belated."

"Thank you."

He nudged again. "How old? Thirteen this year?"

Wendy smiled. "Twenty one."

"I know. I know. Huh. Twenty one. Big number. For all of us." Jim propped on one knee. "You want your birthday gift now?"

"Oh Jim, you didn't have to get me anything."

"I literally just thought of it two seconds ago."

Weakly, Wendy laughed. "What is it?"

"Well. Bike's on a full tank. Gravity shields are recharged. And the realms are open." Jim offered Wendy a hand. "Wanna see the Outerworld?"

She did. Clinging to Jim, Wendy saw outer space on the backseat of a motorcycle. And it was the best belated birthday present ever.

Wendy thanked Jim ecstatically. Jim was gracious, but asked one favor in return. He wanted to see the Underworld. Wendy said she would be delighted to show him.

But they never made it to the Underworld. Because as they rushed home, a very familiar mouse was waiting at the front door.

"Headmaster Mickey!"

Headmaster Mickey smiled. Then, he unfurled a very official looking document.

"Jim Hawkins and Wendy Darling, guardians of Fantasia: You and your fellow guardians are hereby summoned to an audience, tomorrow noon, with the king. By special order of His Majesty: King Arthur Pendragon, Lord of Fantasia."

* * *

 **...**

 **Big4girl poem:**

 _ **It's been so long since I've seen you, so much you have changed. But change is good and I've done the same.**_

 _ **Six years ago we separated, now together again, don't you worry, I'll always be here Wen.**_

 **...**


	25. Chapter 25: Hail to the King

**Chapter 25: Hail to the King**

Kayley was a normal seventeen year old firecracker with her head in the clouds and feet chained to the ground. She craved adventure, grandeur, and the ability to change the world. Kayley wanted to be like her father, Sir Lionel.

Kayley wanted to be a knight.

But Kayley was a girl. The most adventure she would ever see was on her wedding day. Rather…the night of.

 _Yuck._ The idea was revolting to Kayley. _Marriage: disgusting. Men: pigs. Her life (doing the chores, fetching the eggs, taking care of the house): boring!_ There was absolutely no glory in her future.

But Kayley still dreamed. She snuffed all suitors, she refused all courtships, and she pretended to be a knight. It was a childish endeavor, but what could she do? Give up? Marry the first handsome dimwit she saw? Parade around in beautiful dresses like a princess? _No thank you, if you please._

Kayley preferred to daydream. It kept her hopeful. It kept her sane.

But Kayley's daydreams were waning. No longer passable as tomboy, Kayley had developed into a feisty young lady with auburn hair and amber eyes. And for feisty young ladies, the Otherland offered two future vocations: (1) get married (2) or get molested. "Knighthood" was not an option. Life in the Otherland was not multiple choice – it was black and white. And it was cruel.

Kayley had one year left. On her eighteenth birthday, Kayley would pass into adulthood. She would stop being 'a child,' and would _therefore_ lose protection from the Otherland guardians. The guardians only defended children (unfortunately that was the extent of their magic). Adults had to fend for themselves. And for women, that meant marrying a big strong man, with a big strong sword.

Kayley was stuck. By age eighteen, she _had_ to be married. If she wasn't...then she was fair game.

Still, there was a glimmer of hope. According to Kayley's father, the Otherland _might_ resurrect its king. Sir Lionel had spoken of a prophesy. The prophesy foretold of The King's return to power, via a magic sword called Caliburn.

Sir Lionel had accompanied The King on his quest for Caliburn. But before he departed, Sir Lionel had made Kayley a promise.

 _"_ _If the prophesy is true."_ Sir Lionel had said. _"If The King regains his throne, then I will let you try Kayley. I will let you become a knight. But only if the King regains his throne. The true king."_

Kayley was insane with hope. She waited each day for her father to return with The King and Caliburn at his side. It was her last hope.

So, when a magician named Schmendrick collapsed on their homestead…with news….that The King…and Sir Lionel…her father…were dead…

Kayley ran to the ocean bluff. And she screamed.

She didn't even notice the pirate ship, looming in the rocks below.

* * *

 **... ... ... ... ...**

* * *

Three days passed. Finally Kayley spoke.

"How did it happen?"

Schmendrick looked from his soup bowl. Sir Lionel's wife, the lovely Julianna, had restored his health without a tear. She fed him, she mended him; not once did she demand an explanation. Lady Julianna was a profoundly quiet woman. She grieved in silence.

 _Unlike_ her daughter.

"How did what happen?" Schmendrick asked. Kayley made him uncomfortable. "The…deaths?"

Kayley welled. Then, she snarled.

"Yes! The _deaths_. The King. My father, Sir Lionel. You were there. How did it happen?"

Schmendrick gulped. "They were…killed."

"I gathered." Kayley spit. "How? By whom?"

"Two men." Schmendrick spread his arms. His blue robes hung shabbily. "Two brutish men. One of them seized Caliburn from the Lady of the Lake. The other attacked The King. Sir Lionel…took the blow."

Kayley welled again. She blinked furiously, trying not to cry. "He…he died saving The King?"

"Yes."

"But…The King also died?"

Schmendrick removed his pointed hat. He wiped it wearily against his enormous nose.

"I found His Majesty dead. Blade laceration. Through the heart. And his magical sword…was gone. Our attackers stole Caliburn. Perhaps forever. Who can say? Who knows?"

Lady Julianna floated soundlessly into the room. Immediately noticing Kayley's distress, she offered a gentle hand. Kayley shrugged it away.

"Why didn't you protect my father?" Kayley demanded. "Aren't you a wizard?"

"Kayley." Lady Julianna softly scolded.

Shamefully, Schmendrick shook his head. "No. I am a magician. An inept, bumbling magician. The world's worst, as a matter of fact."

"Clearly!" Kayley cried, unable to stop. "Thanks to _you_ everyone is dead!"

"Kayley." Lady Julianna said.

"Thanks to you –" Kayley wrenched from her mother. "—my father is dead!"

"Kayley!" Lady Julianna stood before Schmendrick, shielding him from Kayley's wrath. "Kayley, stop it. This will not bring your father – "

"Thanks to you!" Kayley wept. "The Otherland has no hope! And I'll never – ever – live the life – that _he_ said – that _he_ believed – I –could-"

Kayley slammed into her chair. Hopelessly, she fisted her eyes.

Schmendrick did not retort. Staring into his soup, he turned a spoon over his reflection.

Kayley was right: the deaths _had_ been his fault. At least partially. Had Schmendrick's magic spell _not_ gone awry, then Master Emrys would _not_ have disappeared. Master Emrys could have vanquished the dragon, defeated their foes, and rescued everyone: The King, Sir Lionel, Hiccup, Toothless, Lady Amalthea, Schmendrick himself, and the Lady of the Lake –

 _Plunk!_ Schmendrick dropped his spoon.

"The _Lady of the Lake_ …" Schmendrick ogled, overcome with sudden realization. " _Odette_. The Prophesy. Perhaps – perhaps there _IS hope_!"

Kayley scraped away her tears. "What? What do you mean?"

"The Prophesy!" Schemdrick hopscotched over his chair. Pacing, he fought to remember. "The King sought a prophesy, delivered by Odette, the Lady of the Lake. The prophesy predicted hope! Hope for the Otherworld! Oh let me think, let me think! Come on memory – remember! Let me try – how did it go?"

Schmendrick circled his temples. His brain lurched like a rusty cog. Painstakingly he recited the Prophesy.

"Twinkle, twinkle little star…something, something ancient scar…something land…something brother…oh someone killed the other? Hm…"

Kayley rose. He trailed Schmendrick like a falcon.

"Something about a dragon trained…."Schmendrick continued. "A sword that will be reclaimed…cripple lost in flight…peace in furious night. Twinkle, twinkle something amend – break what must be broken again. OH!"

Blue sparks burst from Schmendrick's nostrils.

"Oh yes! I remember! Twinkle, twinkle little star – then is near – future far – stall evil – peace mend – past must be present again! _Twinkle – Twinkle – little – thing_ – _HAIL the ONCE and FUTURE_ ...and future...and future..."

Schmendrick stuffed his hat on and off, on and off. "Odette didn't finish the poem! What's the end? What could it be? _Twinkle, twinkle little thing – Hail the Once and Future_ – "

"King?" Kayley finished. She rounded the table. "Is that it? Is that the rhyme? Hail the Once and Future King?"

Blue sparkles fizzled from Schmendrick's ears. "Could be! Odette _did_ make a " _kuh_ " sound before we were attacked! _Twinkle, twinkle little thing – hail the once and future king_! OH – WHOA! Oh whoa the powers of WHOA!"

Schmendrick seized Kayley. "Do you know what _this_ _means_? It means that The King that died, The King that ONCE WAS – will be – "

"Future! He will be the Future King!" Kayley looked wildly to Lady Julianna. "Mother! The King! The King is coming again! The King is coming back! The King will arise again! He is – the _Once and Future King_!"

Lady Julianna lifted her hands, trying stifle their exhilaration before it turned into false hope.

"Kayley, how can – "

 _BANG._

The door blew apart. Wood splinters exploded into the furnishings. Lady Julianna spun. Schmendrick yanked Kayley under the table. But the second they ducked, the table was overturned and Kayley was hurled across the room. Stumbling backwards, she passed through a line of men before they grabbed her arms and twisted them back.

"Mother?" Kayley bucked, searching for Lady Julianna. "Mother!"

Her captors laughed. Waggling Kayley's head they mocked. "Mother! Mother! Mother!"

"Don't!" Kayley heard Lady Julianna. "Don't you dare harm her!"

"Beware!" Schmendrick shouted, but he was overpowered by the jeers. "Beware of making a magician angry!"

Suddenly the men stopped. But they did not stop for Julianna's fury or Schmendrick's empty threats. No. The sneers faded as heavy footsteps crossed the threshold.

"Knock, knock." someone said.

Kayley jerked her head. But as she moved, a hand caught her chin and yanked.

Her teeth rapped. Her neck cracked. Jagged fingernails curled under Kayley's jaw, forcing her to look up.

A man smiled down at her. He was a huge, barrel chested man with red hair strung over twitchy eyes. And as his fingers twitched deeper into Kayley's throat, Lady Julianna spoke his name.

"Ruber."

Ruber giggled. Crouching, he puckered Kayley's cheeks.

"I believe…" Ruber said. "You have solved our riddle. What was it then, little girl? Twinkle, Twinkle little thing...Hail the Once and Future _King_?"

* * *

 **...**

 **Big4girl poem:**

 _ **The king is dead and I'm happy to say, I've found a solution to this way. The prophecy continued and I'm a happy man, tell you finally I can.**_

 _ **Now await for me dear Kayley, your intelligence surprises me.**_

 **...**


	26. Chapter 26: Kneel to the Crown

**Chapter 26: Kneel to the Crown**

"Ruber, unhand her!"

Kayley panted as Lady Julianna ordered Ruber away. Amused, Ruber pinched Kayley's cheek. He pinched harder as Kayley squirmed.

"Ruber!" Lady Julianna struggled. "I demand you leave immediately. Get out! When Lionel – "

"Oh Julianna." Ruber released Kayley. Gallantly he strode to her mother. "Purest, pristine Julianna. Let's not play make believe. Lionel is dead."

Ruber motioned. Two henchmen handed him a bloody sack. As they advanced, Kayley suddenly noticed: Ruber had invaded with _monsters_. Most of his men were pirates. But the remaining militias did not have eyes; their sockets were vacuous cavities sucked inward. They looked _undead_.

"Yes. _Sir_ Lionel is dead. And as a happy coincidence." Ruber overturned the bloody sack. A severed, mangled head dropped out. " _We_ killed him."

The head thudded. Veins and viscera stretched, sticking to the floor as the head rolled. Ruber stomped. The face flipped up.

It was Sir Lionel.

Lady Julianna closed her eyes as Kayley screamed.

"So passes," Ruber mockingly held his heart. "A worthy opponent. Oh how bothersome – Captain Hook, silence the girl while I.. _console_ her mother."

A clothe was stuffed in Kayley's mouth. Kayley choked as Captain Hook forced it over her tongue and down her throat.

"Better." Wolfishly, Ruber turned. "Now. Julianna…"

The pirates jostled Lady Julianna forward. She glared murderously as Ruber approached.

"Julianna. Lionel's treasure." Ruber stroked her cheek. "How about a little kiss? Now that you're single."

Lady Julianna spit. "Impertinent pig!"

"Is that a no?" Leaning, Ruber gnawed Lady Julianna's lips. " _So_ rude. Ooo well. I'll just help myself."

Lady Julianna shrieked. The pirates cheered as Kayley kicked against Captain Hook. Peripherally, she saw Schmendrick doing the same. But as the pirates barked obscenities at her mother, Kayley was powerless to help.

"Now." Ruber flicked his hair. In the same motion he withdrew a serrated sword. "Enough with the pleasantries. Julianna, your hospitality is charming. But your _house guests_ are undesirable."

Ruber danced his sword over Schmendrick's eyes.

"Harboring my enemy? An enemy of the crown? Tsk, tsk Julianna. This magician is a criminal. And I believe he has something of mine."

Lady Julianna seethed. Lip bleeding, she hissed. " _What do want_?"

"Caliburn." said Ruber. "And…" he leered at Kayley. "Apparently the _future_ _king_. Deliver these to me Julianna, so that _I may be king_. Annnnd, oh why not, you may be my queen."

" _What_?" Lady Julianna breathed.

"King." Ruber flourished his sword. Air hummed over the irregular iron grooves. "Oh, oh, oh. I just can't wait to be king! You see Julianna, I've stumbled upon a lucky bargain. It seems The Boogie Man, and my new Fantasian friends – "

Ruber gestured gaily to the undead.

"—have a little bit of a grudge. They want Caliburn. And they want the king that wields it."

" _Excalibur_." Captain Hook corrected. He clenched Kayley's neck. "The sword is called Excaibur."

"Caliburn – Excalibur – a rose – a name – that smells as sweet. What have you? The name matters not." Ruber swicked his sword under Julianna's chin. "What matters, Julianna, is this: In exchange for Caliburn and the death of her king, The Boogie Man will give me The Otherland. I will be king. Breathtaking, yes? Well…there are two problems."

Ruber angled his sword, forcing Lady Julianna to her knees.

"Now, I have killed The King. But, as your brat so _diligently_ described, the Prophecy says he will arise again. That is problem one. But there is a second problem: Caliburn has disappeared. I held it in my grasp, _right_ before I ran it through The King's heart. But now…the sword is gone."

Ruber slipped his sword behind Lady Julianna's ear.

"Lionel was The King's confidant. And this magician came to you. Coincidence? I think not." Ruber leaned. "So, my dear Julianna, by order of your new king – King Ruber – tell me: _where is the sword now_?"

Lady Julianna glanced to Kayley, then to her husband. Wrathfully, she held her head high.

"You pig. You _filthy_ pig. You are _mad_. We know nothing of Caliburn or The King. But if _I_ did, I _would not_ tell you. _I would sooner die_."

Ruber gleamed. " _Really_? Well then." He rest his sword against Lady Julianna's throat. " _Do_ say hello to Lionel for me. Tell him, I got the last kiss."

Rubber stabbed. His sword sunk through Lady Julianna's collar bone and into her chest. Before she hit the floor, Lady Julianna was dead.

Kayley screamed. She screamed savagely and incoherently, regurgitating the gag. She screamed until a sword butt struck her temple, and the harrowing scene went black.

* * *

... ... ...

* * *

"Children. _So_ annoying."

They dumped Kayley at Ruber's feet. Tapping his cheek, Ruber regarded Kayley's unconscious body. A psychotic tremor convulsed across his face. "Let's see. How best to kill Lionel's spawn?"

"No! No, no, no!" Schmendrick yelped. "Don't kill her! No more killing or – or – or I'll magick Caliburn away again!"

They turned like sharks.

"So you did!" Ruber slashed. Schmendrick cried as his nose broke. " _You_ cast Caliburn away! You made the sword disappear! Speak magician! _Where is the sword_?"

Schmendrick snuffed. Red slime dripped from his nose. But the injury was Schmendrick's saving grace – it prevented him from having to look Ruber in the eye. Schmendrick was the world's worst magician but he was the _universe's_ crummiest liar.

And he was about to tell a big, fat, honking lie.

"I'll tell you where Caliburn is." Schmendrick burbled. His nose shown red. " But no more killing. That is my bargain. No more killing. At all."

Ruber struck again. "Bargain? I don't _think_ you are in a position to bargain!"

Schmendrick spluttered. He tasted blood. And snot. The mess stuck to his mouth as he spoke.

"Do you want Caliburn?"

Ruber writhed. His pupils spasmed and his fingers twitched for Schmendrick's throat.

He wanted to kill Schmendrick. But he wanted Caliburn more.

Slowly, Ruber withdrew.

"Bargain. Now tell me magician. _Where. Is. Caliburn_."

"Caliburn is…Caliburn is…"

Schmendrick thought of a million lies. He thought of a million horrendous places Caliburn could be. Inside a man eating oak tree. Behind an acid waterfall. Up a dragon's snout. Ten thousand leagues under the sea.

But Schmendrick chose none of these lies. He _was_ a pathetic magician, _and_ a pitiful fool. But Schmendrick was also a decent soul. And, he had believed in The King.

So Schmendrick told a spiteful lie. Schmendrick told a lie to avenge Sir Lionel, honor Lady Julianna, memorialize The King, and disgrace Ruber.

"Caliburn lies with the Once and Future King."

Ruber started. The response threw him. Schmendrick feebly smiled: Ruber was afraid.

But he was still atrociously mean.

"Then _pray tell_ , " Ruber presed his sword to Schmendrick's swollen nose, as if to slice it off. "When will the Once and Future King return?"

Schmendrick sniffed. Broken nose throbbing, he prepared a grandiose response.

Suddenly Captain Hook laughed.

" _He has_. Your king, the king of the Otherland, has already returned."

Ruber turned. As Kayley blinked awake, he demanded.

"What? And you know this? How?"

"Well. It's quite simple. A riddle, perhaps, but one easily solved." Captain Hook stepped over Kayley. Victoriously, he addressed the villainous gathering.

"Maleficent has seen Caliburn. And she swears they are the same. Caliburn _is_ Excalibur. And Excalibur _is_ Caliburn. One sword. Two names. Two... _times_."

Captain Hook raised his scythe. " _Your_ king that held Caliburn, the _Once_ King, has died. So, would it not make sense, that the _king holding Excalibur_ …is his _resurrected_ self? The Future King?"

Ruber spoke hungrily. "There exists such a king?"

"Yes." Captain Hook smiled. "Your king _has_ returned. He reigns in Fantasia. His name…is Arthur."

* * *

 **...**

 **Big4girl poem:**

 _ **Kneel to the crown, Kneel to the crown! Things are finally turning around. For me at least, but Kayley's mother was in the way calling me a beast.**_

 _ **How dare she! I am the king, she will kneel to me! Kneel to the crown, kneel to the crown!**_

 **...**


	27. Chapter 27: Kind of a Big Deal

**Chapter 27: Kind Of A Big Deal**

"Hat on…hat off…hat on…hat off…hat…"

Wendy paused. She stared into the mirror, bowler poised over her head.

Disgusted, she swept the hat across her reflection.

 _She looked terrible! She looked terrible, awful, ugly!_ She hadn't been sleeping well and it showed – sallow skin and dark circles under her eyes. _Dreadful_. She hadn't been eating well and it showed – shapeless corset and thinly filled chemise. _Unattractive_. There were wrinkles in her skirt, runs in her stockings, blemishes on her boots, and her _dratted_ hair would not curl correctly under her hat!

More than ever Wendy wished for a sister. Mrs. Hawkins had already left for King Arthur's castle with Michael and John, and Wendy was _not_ _about_ to ask Jim for hairstyling advice.

Wendy huffed. She could imagine Jim's response. ' _You look fine. Jesus let's go_.' Easy for him to say: _Jim_ was handsome. He didn't have to worry about 'looking fine' – he'd already seen Ariel. They had already reunited and picked up where they left off. Jim didn't have to worry about what Ariel might think, or where their relationship stood, or if she still loved him, or…

Wendy kneaded her forehead. She was so nervous. So _incredibly_ nervous. The ambiguity of what Peter might _think_ when he saw her…it was agonizing.

Wendy ran her fingers under the faucet. She dabbed her eyes and returned to the mirror.

"Don't get emotional." she said, trying to stay sensible. "Just fix it. Just…"

Wendy smoothed her hair. She plumped her bow. Again, she appraised the hat on and off, on and off, on and off…

It was no use. Giving up, Wendy lowered the bowler. She looked dreadful. She looked like…

…. _a twelve year old_.

Wendy flinched, Jim's voice in her head. He'd had only been teasing. But there was truth in jest. Her figure was unceremoniously flat.

Dismally, Wendy tightened her corset. She hadn't much to boast. And what she had would surely go unnoticed.

 _Unless_ …

Wendy bit her lip. She fingered her corset. Tentatively, she tucked a thumb behind the breast-line. Experimentally, she lowered the bust. _Maybe if she…?_

"What are you doing?"

Wendy ripped her hand away.

Jim was standing at the bathroom door. He was wearing his graphene spacer suit (King Arthur had requested the guardians dress in their usual fashion), and the robotic accoutrements made him look like a cyborg. And the way he was observing her, Wendy was sure that lasers were burning from Jim's eyes.

Refusing eye contact, she began fussing with her hat.

"It just won't fall right, will it?" Wendy stammered, hoping to distract Jim from her corset. The bust was indecorously low. "My hair, the hat. I just can't seem to get it proper."

Jim's eyes flicked, reading her behavior.

"Nervous? About meeting him?"

Wendy pretended to misunderstand.

"Well, Arthur is king now. And - "

"I meant the other him." Jim said. " _Your_ him."

Wendy stared at Jim through the mirror. Helplessly she sighed.

"I…I just…" she set her hat in the sink. "I don't know."

Jim joined Wendy. Standing behind, he replaced the hat on her head.

"Peter's a moron, Wen." Jim squeezed Wendy's shoulders, making her stand taller. "But he's not blind."

Wendy gazed at her reflection. "That's what I'm afraid of."

"Yeah." Jim reached. Wendy jumped as he hiked her corset. "Me too."

Wendy rubbed her chest. _Oh Jim and his dark compliments_.

"Okay." Jim said. "You ready to go?"

Wendy didn't bother revisiting the mirror. "As ever."

"Got the shadow?"

"Mhm. Do you have Morph?"

"In my pocket. Morph you ready?"

Morph hiccupped. "Ay ay okay!"

"Okay…"

Jim and Wendy faced each other. Simultaneously, they exhaled.

"To King Arthur's castle?"

"To King Arthur's castle."

* * *

… **.. ….. …..**

* * *

King Arthur's castle.

Wow.

Big was an underestimation. Imposing was an understatement. Remarkable was underwhelming.

"That castle," said Jim. "Is kick ass."

Wendy didn't even reprimand his language.

"Extremely." she agreed.

King Arthur's castle stood behind and around _Fantasia School for the Magically Skewed_. Parapets curled around the school from the castle's main body, almost protectively. Wendy was reminded of a swan curling it's wings, or a giant curling it's fist. Thus, there were two entryways into King Arthur's castle; one from the left and one from the right.

"Now…" Jim steered his motorcycle carefully through the crowd. "If we could just get _to it_."

Reaching King Arthur's castle was an ordeal. Fantasia was _buzzing_. As if on cue, all shops had closed, school was dismissed, and every Fantasian proceeded to the castle. They came from every sector (West, East, North, South, and Center-Point), parading as if on holiday. The streets were packed, the traffic was nonnegotiable, and Jim and Wendy suddenly realized –

- _they were going to be late!_

"It's the middle of the work day." Wendy slipped off the motorcycle. Riding had become impossible. Jim had begrudgingly decided to walk. "Why is everyone out?"

Jim wove through a cluster of children. He waited for Wendy, bike balanced against his hip.

"You don't think it's us, do you?"

Wendy stepped around a picnic blanket. "Us? Why would everything stop for us?"

Jim nodded. "They're all going to the castle. That's where we're going."

"Well yes, but for a meeting."

Jim pushed his bike. "Not if we don't hurry. Damn it, _move_ people. We are going to be late."

Wendy quickened her pace. "Why not just fly overhead?"

Jim grunted.

"Too much attention?" Wendy guessed.

Jim grunted again.

Wendy scanned the crowd. The Fantasians were already pointing and gossiping at their unconventional attire.

"I quite agree." she said.

"C'mon." Jim set off on a trot, robotic boots clunking. "If we gotta run someone over, then we gotta run someone over. I'm not going to be late for the freaking king."

"Hey! Hawkins! Wendy! Okay people, move _please_! Step aside! Hawkins! Over here!"

A hand flashed over the crowd. Jim and Wendy spoke simultaneously.

"Mulan!"

The bystanders swept rapidly aside. Mulan ran through the open path, Captain Lee Shang behind. Both were armed with wakizashi samurai blades, Beretta M418 pocket pistols, and big smiles (even Shang).

"Captain Fa, actually." Mulan hugged Wendy and slapped Jim high five. "Been a member of Cobra Bubble's secret agent team since you guys left!"

"Captain Fa." Shang said crisply. "We've discussed this. You can't be a secret agent if you don't keep it a secret."

Mulan saluted. "Understood, Sir." She winked at Wendy and Jim. "He's just jealous because I outrank him five stars to four. Husbands – what are ya going to do?"

"You're married!" Wendy's eyes flew to Mulan's engagement ring. "Mulan! Oh I mean, Captain Fa – congratulations."

Mulan smiled. She looked expectantly to Jim.

Jim glanced at Shang. They had never been overly friendly – Jim had insulted Shang's manhood during a pushup competition (Jim cheated; Mulan won; Shang lost; long story told short).

Jim returned to Mulan. "Least you got a nice dress out of it, right?"

Shang fumed. Mulan laughed. "Actually, I got a nice guy. A really – "

Abruptly Mulan touched her ear. Shang copied the motion. For a moment they listened as Cobra Bubble's voice crackled over a wireless earbud system. Still holding her ear, Mulan murmured into a wrist recorder.

"Roger that, Bubbles. Shang and I are in right wing, section five. Yes we're with Shadow Worker and Star Grinder."

Wendy turned to Jim. "Star Grinder?"

Jim shrugged. "Spacer thing. Dumb title."

"Roger. Double that." Mulan motioned for Wendy and Jim to follow. "We'll be there in three. Pendragon under ghost surveillance? The mouse ready? Silent Siren and Little Eagle apprehended? Okay, I'll bring Shadow Worker and Star Grinder in. Over and out. Okay – Jim, Wendy – "

Mulan plowed through the Fantasians. Wendy and Jim followed closely.

"Here is the lowdown." Mulan explained. "Jim, Shang will park your bike. I'm escorting you to the right entrance. The right entrance leads upwards to an open balcony. That's where you'll join Ariel and Peter – they should be coming from the left entrance."

Wendy's stomach flipped at mention of Peter. Peter's shadow actually flipped.

"Once you meet Ariel and Peter at the balcony," Mulan continued. "Headmaster Mickey will lead you up _another_ flight of stairs to _another_ balcony. Lots of stairs and lots of balconies…"

Mulan cut through a ring of teenagers. "I hope you guys are good with exercise."

She continued before they could answer.

"King Arthur will be waiting at the top. He will receive you at the Round Table."

Wendy and Jim were impressed. _They were going to be 'received'. Fancy._

Mulan ushered them through a castle archway. The white stone was engraved with constellations and autumn leaves.

"Wendy." said Mulan. "King Arthur requested that all liaisons and realm supervisors be present at this meeting. We were able to contact Doc, B.E.N., Vinny, Fawn, Terrence, and Tinkerbell from the Underworld. Did you need anyone else to provide a full report?"

"I don't think so." Wendy said.

"Good. Jim, we couldn't find a liaison for the Outerworld. King Arthur suggested that you don't have anyone up there working with you. Is that right?"

Jim nodded. "Just me."

"Okay." Mulan stopped before a staircase. The steps ascended up the parapet without end. "You'll just have to go solo during the meeting."

Suddenly a horn blew. It was a deep, beautiful baritone that punched the air and vibrated under their skin.

Mulan smiled. "King Arthur loves those horns."

A second horn resonated. Outside the Fantasians applauded.

"What are the horns for?" Wendy asked.

Mulan seemed incredulous. "They're for _you_. The guardians. This is kind of a _big deal_. Why do you think all of Fantasia is here? Guys – _you are back_. You might be seeing the king, but King Arthur is _honored_ to see you."

Jim and Wendy were humbled by her praise. Morph and Peter's shadow were convinced the pomp and circumstance was just for them.

A third horn detonated. The Fantasians applauded louder.

Mulan pointed up the stairs. "Okay guys. Go ahead. Ariel and Peter are waiting up top. See you at the Round Table!"

Morph whizzed up the stairs. Peter's shadow whooshed after him.

"What's the Round Table?" Wendy wondered.

Jim took Wendy's hand. "Table that's round?"

Wendy smiled. Jim smiled back.

Together, they climbed the first step.

* * *

 **...**

 **Big4girl poem:**

 _ **Kind of a big deal, ooh that's a strange feel. Kind of a big deal, hope they don't kneel, at our feet where I hope they won't stay. Just a meeting with Arthur on this fine day…**_

 **...**


	28. Chapter 28: The Big Four

**Chapter 28: The Big Four**

The horns rumbled and boomed! The excitement was electrifying! The Fantasians were riotous as a rock concert! The guardians were coming! The guardians were back!

Wendy squeezed Jim's hand. With every upward step she squeezed harder, harder, harder, and harder...

"Wen, my circulation."

Wendy relaxed her grip. She stuttered something apologetic that she couldn't remember. Eyes glued to the crest of the stairs, she stumbled.

Jim paused. "You - "

"Yes." She muttered. "Fine."

"Sure?"

"Yes."

 _Big lie Wendy Darling. Her stomach was aching._

Three more steps...

 _Her head was spinning._

Two more steps...

 _Her heart was going to burst._

One...more...

"Wen."

Wendy heard Jim distantly, as if through water.

"Wen. You're going to knock him dead."

Wendy was too nervous to believe Jim; but she loved him outrageously for saying so. Giving a final squeeze, Wendy mounted the last step and strode into the sunlight, head held high.

And just as they ascended, two other hand held figures appeared across the balcony: Ariel Triton and Peter Pan.

 _Immediately_ , Peter's eyes leapt and grabbed Wendy. His gaze hit her like a knife and stuck. The intensity was disarming and magnetic. Wendy had no idea how she reacted. She only knew that she wasn't breathing, she could only hear her heart, and Peter had somehow enchanted her to not look away.

Ariel broke the spell. Unable to contain herself, she ran across the balcony and seized Wendy. Gasping joyfully, Wendy returned the embrace and held. She pressed affectionately into Ariel's hair as the boys approached.

Then she opened her eyes. Still hugging, she looked over Ariel's shoulder.

Peter was right there. _Right there_. Close enough to kiss.

They stared at each other.

Then, with a twinkle, Peter winked.

Wendy's heart just about exploded. Even Ariel felt the beat.

"Ah hem. Guardians. Ariel, Wendy. Fantasia is watching."

They turned. Headmaster Mickey beamed from the base of a second stairwell. The stairwell stretched before them, ascending to the tallest tower. And, as Headmaster Mickey had indicated, Fantasia stretched behind them. It was staggering. A colorful arena of spectators, _hundreds_ in number, watched them from below.

Headmaster Mickey smiled at their astonishment.

"Follow me." Headmaster Mickey's tail swished up the stairs. "King Arthur is waiting."

They joined hands. Jim took Wendy's. Wendy took Ariel's. Ariel took Peter's. And they followed as one.

As they climbed the tension peaked. When they finally scaled the castle's summit, Fantasia was practically humming. The people were pulsating with excitement but no one cheered. It was as if they were waiting. Waiting for a signal.

Headmaster Mickey directed the guardians to stop at the tallest tower before the tallest doors. There were dignitaries waiting: Masters Goofy, Donald, Cogsworth, and Mistress Minnie. There were service men too: Agent Cobra Bubbles, Captains Amelia, Shang and Fa, Admiral Triton, P.I. Basil, and -

The guardians did a double take. "Flynn?"

Flynn Rider gave an inverted peace sign. He had a special title: he was the king's royal thief. But before Flynn could explain, the doorway opened.

And King Arthur stepped through.

Their mouths dropped.

"Kneel." Jim breathed, dropping himself. "Fucking kneel."

Again, Wendy did not even reprimand his language.

Of all the changes, of all the metamorphoses, of all the alterations of time, Arthur had changed the greatest.

He was a king. Young as ever, but Arthur _was_ king. Nearly tall as Peter and Jim, King Arthur had grown into his large hands and feet. Wielding Excalibur had shaped him into a wiry youth. He moved nimbly as a panther and confidently as a lion. But most noticeable of all: Arthur's golden crown no longer slipped. It fit - _extremely_ well.

King Arthur approached the guardians with a smile bright as his baby blue eyes. He tilted his head, a little amused that they were bowing.

Then almost mischievously, Arthur fingered Excalibur's hilt. He side-glanced to Headmaster Mickey. _Can I?_

Headmaster Mickey shrugged. _You're the king._

King Arthur smiled. Radiating like the sun, he seized Excalibur, ripped it from his scabbard, and stabbed the sword into the air.

It was the signal the Fantasians had been waiting for.

They went wild. Cheers, applause, and celebrations erupted across Fantasia like an atom bomb - a couple atom bombs.

The guardians shared a blush - even Peter. Bashfully, astoundedly, and appreciatively they listened to the rejoicing Fantasians.

Arthur grinned. He extended a hand. "Welcome home."

* * *

 **storyboard song: _How To Train Your Dragon Score: "Test drive"_**

* * *

 **...**

 **Big4girl poem:**

 ** _The big four, man we're famous for sure. I can't believe our new title, no tricks we're idles. The attention kind of surprises me, I really can't believe, we're here together them and me. I may be a cocky pan, but I've grown into a mature man, ha that's a laugh, but I can mature, but only on her behalf._**

 **...**


	29. Chapter 29: The Round Table (Round 1)

**Chapter 29: The Round Table (Round 1)**

Ariel accepted King Arthur's hand. Unabashed, she gave him a great big hug.

Master Cogsworth slapped his head. _Fail. Kings do not publicly display affection._

Headmaster Mickey waved a hand, calming Master Cogsworth. Ariel had saved King Arthur in the Battle to Take Fantasia. Of the guardians, she was his closest friend. Headmaster Mickey was willing to let Arthur have this informal moment. It wouldn't hurt anyone: Master Cogsworth would survive.

Arthur released Ariel. Excusing himself, he strode through the guardians and lifted a hand to the Fantasians.

Headmaster Mickey's smile vanished. _Uh oh. Impromptu speech? Again?_

"Your Majesty – " he began as Master Cogsworth eeped.

"MY PEOPLE!" Arthur circled Excalibur. "THE GUARDIANS HAVE RETURNED! EVERYBODY - TAKE THE DAY OFF!"

Again, the Fantasians went nuts: Fireworks, hurrahs, hugs, kisses, singing, dancing, All Hail King Arthur, Long Live the King!

Master Cogsworth slapped his head. _Fail. Kings do not proclaim spontaneous holidays_.

Flynn nudged Admiral Triton. "I _really_ love this kid."

With a final wave, Arthur sheathed Excalibur. He answered Master Cogsworth's disproving glare with a rueful apology: contrite, a little sheepish, and slightly humored.

"I know. No spontaneous holidays. But its midday, everyone is excited: I don't think they'd work much this afternoon anyway." He verified with Headmaster Mickey. "Right?"

Headmaster Mickey shrugged sweetly. "You're the king."

Arthur huffed good-naturedly. Headmaster Mickey had been saying that lately. ' _You're the king.'_ The expression granted Arthur political freedoms and forced his independence. It was nerve-wracking, especially for his advisors, but Master Merlin had insisted that Arthur start standing on his own. After all, he _was_ king; and he was developing into a good one.

"All right then." Arthur squared to the guardians. "To the Round Table. This way."

The guardians followed. There was a definite skip in Arthur's step. Evidently, the king was very happy to see them.

Automatically, the dignitaries and legionnaires encompassed King Arthur and the guardians. Taking the rear, Agent Bubbles scanned the Fantasian vista before closing the doors.

"All clear." he said into wrist recorder. "Over and out. Rendezvous at the Round Table."

As King Arthur was scolded by Masters Cogsworth and Donald, they continued. The castle's interior was magnificent as it's outer façade. Hardwood floors gleamed under white arches. The arches sprouted overhead like trees, and the ceiling was decorated with cobalt blue mosaics. Each hall was illuminated, warm, and open – just like a clear, sunny day.

Jim wove around Wendy. Swiftly, he kissed Ariel.

"Hey babe."

 _Hi!_ Ariel kissed him again, this time longer. Then, almost immediately, Ariel leaned across Jim, tugged Wendy, and mouthed something.

Wendy blinked. She couldn't read Ariel's lips.

"Sorry." she whispered. "Again?"

Ariel repeated, this time slower. Wendy still could not decipher. Suddenly reminded of Sandman communicating via charades in the Underworld, Wendy concentrated. Not wanting to insult Ariel, she attempted an interpretation.

"Do...I know of the time?"

Ariel scrunched her nose. _Not quite._ Turning, she repeated the sentence to Jim.

Jim watched, he waited until Ariel was through –

"Do you want to go shopping?" he translated to Wendy.

Ariel gave a thumbs up.

"Oh." Wendy said, surprised. "Ariel I'm sorry I couldn't read –"

Ariel batted her hands. She mouthed again, and the intent was clear. _Well do you?_

"What for?" Wendy asked.

Cheerfully, Ariel shrugged. _Didn't matter. Girl stuff. Just wanna hang!_

Wendy smiled. Here they were, _moments_ afore an audience with King Arthur, and Ariel was already thinking ahead. Prospectiveness, openness, bubbliness: _so Ariel Triton._

"All right." Wendy felt her giddiness returning. "I would like that. _So_ much."

"Good. You should." Arm around Ariel, Jim placed a hand on Wendy's stomach. He pushed her back. "Now beat it. Go find Pan."

Wendy wavered. Falling back, she bumped into Admiral Triton.

"I beg your pardon Admiral – "

"Apology accepted." Brusquely, Admiral Triton passed. He spoke to Wendy, but scowled lethally at Jim. "Don't lag."

Wendy raised a brow. Peter's shadow swung fake punches at Admiral Triton's back.

"Shadow." Wendy yanked the shadow's fists. "I am _warning_ you, today you absolutely need to beha – oh!"

Wendy stopped. Just as she was reprimanding his shadow, Peter had snuck behind her, pinched her bottom –

-and strode right by.

Wendy couldn't believe it. " _Excuse_ me?" she blurted.

Completely ignoring her, Peter waved as Flynn galumphed towards him like a rhinoceros.

"Rider!" Peter called. "Dude!"

"Pan!" Flynn and Peter chest bumped. Flynn was so hysterical to see his best friend, he smooched Peter full on the lips. "Pan! Pan the Man! Buddy!"

"Oh my god, Flynn! Use _breath_ _mints_ next time!"

"Ahhhhhhhhhhh I'M so HAPPY to SEE you!"

"Ow, ow, ow Flynn my ears!"

"It's just been ME and ALADDIN! Two lonely musketeers!"

"Watch the headdress!"

"Aw PETE!"

"You're going to kiss me again aren't you?"

"HERE IT COMES!"

"God."

"PUCKER UP!"

Jim glanced back. His eyes flickered once to Wendy, once to Admiral Triton, and again to Peter and Flynn. "Morons."

Ariel silently giggled.

Wendy stared. Peter had bypassed her without a comment or backward glance. Not even a wink, like he had done before. And now, Peter was ignoring her.

Wendy smoothed her skirt. She gave an extra swipe over the spot Peter had pinched. She had no idea what to think, and was less certain how to respond. But a number of emotions surfaced.

Confusion: _What had that been about? What was Peter trying to prove?_

Indignation: _How_ _dare_ _he touch her like that_!

Indignation again: _In front the king!_

Indignation galore: _How dare he!_

Thrill: _That was actually exciting._

Embarrassment: _Get a hold of yourself Wendy Darling._

Confusion: _Why was_ _Peter_ _ignoring her?_

Peter's shadow thought the interaction was very funny. Promiscuously, it tugged Wendy's skirt.

Wendy tugged it back. "Last warning." Testily she trailed after the procession. "Behave."

The shadow chuckled. Merrily it followed King Arthur to the Round Table.

Jim was right: The Round Table _was_ a table that was round. It was a massive, globe-sized, solid-stone table that was round.

Already seated and separated by realms were the liaisons and chief executives for Skyworld, Seaworld, and Underworld. Ariel and Peter had the most associates by far, followed by Wendy. The Outerworld division was empty as Jim had no other companion besides Morph.

"Please." King Arthur addressed the guardians. "Sit in your respective sections."

The guardians divided.

Ariel joined her Seaworld colleagues, taking the seat on King Arthur's immediate left. Captain Eric (seated to _Ariel's_ left), hefted a beach tote on the table. After a thankful acknowledgment, Ariel rummaged through the bag. Impatiently she began unpacking items: snorkel, flippers, water goggles, sonar fish finder, seashell headphones, waterproof iPod, clamshell brazier (similar to her purple one, but turquoise).

Finally, Ariel produced a fishbowl. Inside the fishbowl was Flounder. Ariel waved; Flounder said hi; the fishbowl was placed. Ariel leaned her trident against her chair, folded her legs, crossed her arms, and smiled. She was ready to go!

Wendy crossed to her section. Underworld and Skyworld were seated directly across from each other. Underworld was seated a quarter turn to King Arthur's left. Skyworld was seated a quarter turn to King Arthur's right. As Wendy settled, she half listened to Peter greeting his company of Indians, pilots, and birds.

"Okay." Tinkerbell slumped beside Wendy. "This better be short."

"Tinkerbell." Wendy spoke urgently. It had been two days since she left the Underworld, and she felt extremely unaware. "Tinkerbell did the dragon get out all right?"

Tinkerbell bit a nail. "Dunno."

"You don't know?" Furiously, Wendy lowered her voice. "Tinkerbell, I specifically told you to make sure that dragon – "

"Umm take a chill pill, _Boss_. You disappeared, remember?"

"That's no excuse. That dragon – "

"That _dragon_ ate all the magic fish sticks, then flew his butt out of the White Rabbit's hole." Tinkerbell scratched lime green polish from her nail. "You disappeared at the same time so we decided to call it a day."

" _We_ decided?"

"Okay I did. Sue me."

"Tinkerbell." Wendy turned in her seat. "I am swearing to you right now, if you don't stop this underhanded drivel then I will personally – "

"Peter's looking at you."

Wendy faltered. Tinkerbell smirked. It was agonizing, but Wendy forced herself not to look.

" _Tinkerbell_." Wendy spoke in deathly calm. "No – more – nonsense. If that dragon is in Fantasia, you are going to find him and report back to me. Understood?"

Tinkerbell blew. "Puh. Okay. Sure. But I'm not kidding. Peter _is_ looking at you. Must be that old hat. It's a bump up from the bow."

Wendy fumed. Praying to her mother for patience, she glared across the table.

Peter _was_ looking at her. Startled, Wendy looked down, up, down, then up again. Peter's eyes sparkled wickedly, as if he knew he'd embarrassed her. A bit affronted, Wendy lifted her chin and stared right back at Peter Pan.

Peter's eyebrows rose. _Well . Hello Miss Darling._

As Peter's expression lifted, Wendy was suddenly struck by his appearance. Peter's features had always been impish, but he had matured into a demon. Behind his smile were two mesmerizing black eyes. Peter laughed easily, but he moved stealthily as a fox and slippery as a snake. And...he was a handsome devil. Handsome indeed.

Suddenly Peter's gaze skimmed over Wendy's head. He laughed.

Wendy turned in time to see Peter's shadow snap both hands behind it's back.

"What were you doing?"

The shadow pointed innocently to itself. _Me?_

Wendy glowered. " _Sit_. No not on my lap, in a chair! What in the world has gotten into you?"

The shadow rolled into the chair beside her. Scooting closer it waved crazily at Peter.

"So that's it. Showing off." Realizing that she should have anticipated the behavior (after all the shadow was _Peter Pan's_ soul), Wendy reminded: "Remember. Behave."

The shadow wiggled. Pompouslyit bopped Wendy's hat. Twice.

Wendy made eye contact with Jim. She shook her head. "Never a dull moment."

Jim scoffed. He had been seated between Underworld and Skyworld, directly across King Arthur. Morph was sitting proudly to his right, and B.E.N. was trying to surgically attach himself to Jim's left.

"Tell me about it."

"Guardians! Liaisons! Associates!" Master Cogsworth tapped his timepiece. "Only several more moments! Once the future queen arrives – "

"Lady Elsa is not coming." said Arthur. He smiled, but his advisors frowned. Agent Bubbles and Admiral Triton murmured darkly. Even Headmaster Mickey was glum.

Nevertheless, Arthur motioned congenially to the empty chair at his right. "She felt ill. I suggested she not come."

"Your Majesty – "

"I suggested she not come." Arthur repeated firmly. His smile flattened, just a touch. "That was my decision."

Arthur glanced to Headmaster Mickey.

Unenthusiastically, Headmaster Mickey shrugged. _You're_ _the_ _king_.

Arthur nodded. "Good. All right, let's start the meeting. Archimedes?"

Master Merlin's owl flapped from the back of Arthur's chair and perched on his shoulder. Arthur winced as Archimedes' talons pricked through his tunic.

Importantly, the owl cleared his throat. Once, twice, thrice.

"Meeting commenced." Archimedes finally announced.

Jim glanced at Morph. _Anticlimatic_.

"Thank you." Smile refreshed, Arthur rose. "Welcome. Welcome to the Round Table. This Round Table, as the name implies, has no head. Everyone is equal. Every soul and every voice is - "

"Um okay," Tinkerbell interrupted. "That's a load of crap."

Arthur stuttered and stopped, clearly veered from an autopilot script. For the first time that day, he transformed back into Wart – the clumsy little fool.

"W-what?"

" _You_ are the king." Tinkerbell said. "Aren't you like ' _the head_?' And I'm sorry but the little mermaid is awfully close to you, aka the _head_ of the table. Def not equal, _Highness_."

Wendy was horrified. "Tinkerbell apolo – "

"Well she is!" Tinkerbell snapped at Ariel. "I'm sorry but – "

"Tinkerbell!" Wendy said. "Be quiet!"

Tinkerbell rolled her eyes. But she was silent.

Flushing violently, Wendy turned to Arthur. "Your Majesty, and Ariel, I apologize. It won't happen..." she glared at Tinkerbell. "... _again_."

Arthur considered.

"No. Don't apologize. She's right."

Master Cogsworth slapped his head. _Fail. Kings don't admit fault. Haters gonna hate Arthur. Haters gonna hate._

Even Tinkerbell was surprised. "Huh?"

"It's not equal." Arthur agreed. "Technically. Some people are farther from me. So..."

Kicking up his leg, Arthur planted a foot on the table. Archimedes squawked as he climbed up, walked over the table top, and plopped cross-legged in the center.

"There." Arthur grinned at Tinkerbell. "See? Now we are all equidistant."

Ariel smothered a smile. Peter rocked his fist. Headmaster Mickey laughed into his hand.

Master Cogsworth slapped his head. _Fail. Fail. Fail. Fail. Fail. Fail. Fail. FAIL._

Flynn gushed. "I _really_ love this kid."

"Okay." Arthur adjusted Excalibur. "Ready to continue?"

Tinkerbell snorted. "Puh."

Arthur smirked, just a little. He had regained control.

"Six years have passed since the Battle to Take Fantasia. Our guardians have returned after six years of separation, but also six years of rebuilding, hard work, and creativity within their separate realms. I am honored to receive you today. _Honored_. But before I speak my piece, I would ask that you introduce yourselves. After all...it's been six years!"

Arthur rotated to face Wendy.

"Since this is the season of autumn, we will start with you Lady Shadow Worker."

Wendy straightened in her chair. The shadow mimicked her motion. Her voice echoed timorously in the great chamber at first, but Wendy gained confidence as she spoke.

"Well, my name is Wendy Darling as you know. I am the Underworld guardian. The Underworld executives with me today, are as follows: Doc, excavating chief; Fawn, dragon specialist; Terrence, chief pixie dust engineer; B.E.N., bio-electronic navigator; Vinny Santorini, demolitionist expert; and Tinkerbell, Skyworld liaison."

Imploringly the shadow pawed Wendy.

"And shadow." Wendy added. "My right hand man."

The shadow puffed with pride. _Eat that suckas!_

"Thank you Lady Shadow Worker." Arthur said. "And might I just say congratulations. The Underworld's yearly progress has been staggering. Plus, stylish hat."

Wendy was flattered. "Thank you, Your Majesty."

Master Cogsworth slapped his head. _Fail. Kings do not compliment on style. Only Edna Mode is licensed to do that._

Arthur spun on his rump.

"Lady Siren." he said to Ariel. "You are next."

Ariel dipped her hand inside the fish bowl. When her fingers were wet, she rubbed them around the glass rim, producing a ringing sound.

Suddenly Flounder spoke from within the bow.

"Hi! I'm Flounder, Ariel's personal spokesfish. As you can see, Ariel is rubbing the rim of my bowl and making sound – like a whale's song. AND, Ariel is also making vibrations in my water. What Ariel is doing is a form of aquapathy. Aquapathy is how sea creatures communicate underwater. Ariel usually does it with her trident, buuuuuuuuuut this bowl isn't big enough for that! So...we're doing this instead."

Everyone was mega intrigued.

Flounder capitalized on the moment.

"Okay! So! Ariel wants me to introduce everyone! Starrrrrrrting from Ariel's left and going down the line we have: Captain Eric, naval correspondent and Landworld liaison; Scuttle, Skyworld liason; John Smith, secondary naval correspondent and able body sailor spokesman; Attina Triton, mermaid correspondent; Urchin, merman correspondent; Crush, current director; Nigel, seabird correspondent; and in that fish bowl over there – "

Flounder pointed to a square aquarium. A pod of fish waved.

"— Marlin, Nemo, Dori, Gill, Peach, Mr. Ray, Bubbles, Gurgle, Deb (and Flo), and Jacques. Experts on all things fish."

Ariel tapped the fishbowl. Bashfully Flounder added. "—and me."

"Thank you!" Arthur beamed. "And Lady Siren, I have a message from our local fishermen. They say you are the hottest...well, they are very appreciative."

Ariel twisted her hair demurely. Jim ground his knuckles into the back of Morph's chair.

Arthur finished thanking Ariel's fishy counterparts. Then he turned to Peter.

"Little Eagle: batter up."

Master Cogsworth slapped his head. _Fail. Sports analogies. No._

Peter – to everyone's pleasant surprise – responded extremely professionally.

"An honor, Your Majesty. I am Peter Pan, guardian of Skyworld and named Little Eagle by my Indian allies. Seated beside me are: Chief Powhatan, Landworld liaison; Pocahontas, wind specialist; Kekata, smoke signaler; Sitka, wing commander; Orville Wright, air marshal one; Wilbur Wright, air marshal two; Flit, air marshal three; Dumbo, air marshal four; Vidia, meteorologist; Zues lightning specialist; Genie, rainbow specialist."

"Yeah." Peter added cockily to the last descriptor. "We have one."

Arthur's knee jounced excitedly. "Can you really slide down the rainbows?"

Peter mimed the motion. "To a pot of gold, Your Majesty."

Arthur grinned. After a grumble from Master Cogsworth, he recovered his stateliness and turned to Jim.

"Finally, Star Grinder. Lord Hawkins."

Wendy and Ariel exchanged impressed looks. _Lord? Go Jim._

Peter ruined the moment by coughing ' _Poser_!'

Jim didn't hesitate. "I'm Jim, this is Morph. We protect the Outerworld." He glared at Peter. "From intruders."

Peter crossed his eyes.

Arthur answered seriously. "And from what Merlin saw through his telescope, that is an enormous feat. But, one you are accomplishing. Thank you."

Jim nodded respectfully. He scratched Morph with an index finger as the pink critter chirped.

"Now. We come to it. My turn." Arthur rest hands on his knees. His tone dropped, almost solemnly. "I am Arthur Pendragon, King of Fantasia. And I have a question for the guardians..."

Arthur paused before finishing. "Why are you here?"

They blinked.

Finally, Ariel rubbed the fishbowl.

"What?" Flounder translated. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, _why_ – and _how_ – are you here?" Arthur looked each guardian in the eye. "Because I did not call you."

* * *

 **...**

 **Big4girl Poem:**

 **I have a round table for all are able, to be as equal as me. I'm just a boy, a boy as a king. It's a very stressful thing, but I'm trying to keep positive and continue to live, being a king is great fun, but the fun is usually done as I try to settle my heart between duty and love apart.**

 **...**


	30. Chapter 30: The Round Table (Round 2)

**Chapter 30: The Round Table (Round 2)**

Apparently, King Arthur's announcement was unbeknownst to anybody (except him). No one knew that Arthur had _not_ called the guardians.

And they were not pleased.

Especially Headmaster Mickey.

"Hot fudge and hot phooey!" Wrathfully, Headmaster Mickey shook his fists. "Darn storyteller!"

"Mickey!" Mistress Minnie scolded. "Language!"

Wendy sympathized.

"Um - Headmaster?" Arthur backed slightly. Headmaster Mickey's outburst was quite uncharacteristic. Of Arthur's advisers, he was the calmest. It was alarming to see Headmaster Mickey lose composure.

"Headmaster, are - er. How do you mean? What storyteller?"

"Storytellers!" Headmaster Mickey raved. "Shifty, interfering, meddlesome, troublemakers! Think they can just waltz right into our story and mess things up like scrambled eggs! Taking Fantasia - Giving Fantasia - blah, blah, blah, blah, blah! On and on and on! Yatta, yatta! Well let me tell you Miss Lower Case 's' - we're all here, we're all confused, and you've flipped our lives into a ridiculous storyline! We - Are - Not - Amused - _none_ _of_ _us_!"

Flynn leaned into Admiral Triton. Wary eye on Headmaster Mickey, Flynn muttered from the corner of his mouth. "Who's he talking to?"

Headmaster Mickey panted like a rabid rat. He glowered at the blank faces. No one understood his gibberish; but they did understand that Headmaster Mickey was mad.

"You...okay?" Arthur ventured, a little clueless.

"What? Oh. Fine. Yes, I'm fine. Personal experience - you had to have been there."

Headmaster Mickey glossed his ears. Soothed, he gestured graciously to King Arthur. "Please continue."

Arthur looked dubious as to whether he should. After all, his last comment had triggered Headmaster Mickey's minor conniption.

Jim ended the silence. "What do you mean you didn't call?"

Arthur repeated. "Just that. I did not call you back. I thought of it - several times - but the situation was never dire. I can only call the guardians to protect Fantasia. And currently, Fantasia is at peace."

Jim frowned. "But I heard you call. In my head. "

"So did I." Wendy agreed. "I didn't recognize the voice at first. Your voice has changed Your Majesty, and it _was_ the one I heard. What's more, I felt a pull guiding me to Fantasia."

"Through the stomach?" Jim verified, looking at Wendy. "Like a thread through the stomach and into the back?"

"Yes." Wendy nodded. "That was the feeling."

"Ariel felt it too!" Flounder said as Ariel circled the fishbowl rim. "And she also heard your voice King Arthur."

"Dido." said Peter. "And the pull yanked me right out of the sky. That never happens."

The Indians nodded gravely. _Never._

"We're not trying to be disrespectful." Wendy began apologetically. "But I think we're all just a little confused. If you didn't call us, _who_ _did_? In fact: who _else_ _can_?"

"No one can." Headmaster Mickey peered pensively at Arthur. "The call can only be made by King Arthur."

Jim held his jaw, thinking.

"So if no one but King Arthur can call us...and we're all here..."

Ariel rubbed the fishbowl, sensing Jim's logic.

"Then King Arthur," said Flounder, communicating Ariel's thought. "You _must_ have called."

The royal advisers rounded on Arthur. They peppered him with questions, urging him to remember when he had called the guardians.

"But I didn't!" Arthur insisted. Flustered, he reverted once again into scared, little Wart. "I didn't call, I promise! I would have remembered - "

"Now come on boy! Think!" Arthur cringed as Archimedes stomped on his blonde head. "Use your head, use your head, will you?! It's just like Merlin said: how do you ever expect to learn anything if you don't use your head!"

Wendy pressed her lips sympathetically. They had gotten Arthur in trouble, and she was embarrassed for him. Suddenly inspired by Archimedes' comment, she spoke.

"Wait! Wait a moment - excuse me!" Wendy tried to attract the bickering advisers. "Excuse me? _Excuse_ _me_! Please listen!"

Across the table Peter smiled. Sticking two fingers in his mouth, he whistled.

It did the trick.

"I think Lady Shadow Worker has an announcement." Peter said. Imperceptibly he winked. "Let's just hope she doesn't _talk_ _too_ _much_."

 _Talk too much. Girls talk too much. Witty Peter ha ha. Exceedingly appropriate time to revisit an old humiliating quote._

"Thank you." Wendy replied tartly. " _Little_ Eagle."

Devil horns curled from Peter's headdress. "At your service, _little_ lady. But please, you had better start talking...now that _we're_ _engaged_."

 _Engaged_.

Peter's play on words popped and stung. He had spoken fluidly but his tone sharpened at _engaged_. Privy to the double meaning, Wendy felt like Peter was _accusing_ her of something. She was also mortified that someone (Jim) would decipher the coded remark.

On cue, Jim peered suspiciously. "Wen, were you going to say something?"

Wendy squeezed her skirt. She ignored Peter as he leaned with exaggerated interest.

"Yes, yes I was. I thought perhaps His Majesty _might_ have called, but unconsciously. Pardon my candor Your Majesty, but haven't you been unwell? Is it possible you called during your heart attack?"

Arthur touched his chest. His finger tapped. "I don't remember calling. And I was awake the entire time. It just hurt - like someone was stabbing me through the heart. I was groggy, but I _did not_ call."

Wendy nodded meekly. "I apologize. It was just a thought, and it seemed the only explanation. Especially since Master Merlin predicted you would - "

"You've seen Merlin?" Arthur almost crawled to Wendy. "When? When did you see him? What did he say? Where did he go?"

Wendy hardly knew where to start. But she suddenly noticed: Master Merlin was not present.

"I saw Master Merlin when I arrived." Wendy explained. "Briefly. He did seemed surprised I was there. He asked me the time, he said ' _it_ _was_ _the time_ ,' and then he disappeared. Oh well, after he predicted your heart attack."

Arthur implored Wendy like a puppy. "Is he coming back?"

"I don't know." Wendy answered truthfully. "He didn't mention. I'm sorry."

She broke his heart and she knew it. Arthur didn't even try to hide his disappointment.

"Your Majesty." Headmaster Mickey said comfortingly. "We've discussed this. Merlin lives between times. He's probably caught at a time intersection - it's like being wedged in a bottleneck. When his past, future, and present selves split apart, Merlin will return."

"Yes." Wendy offered in spite of herself. "Yes I'm sure he will. Master Merlin didn't sound dismal when he left. Just...slightly cantankerous."

Arthur half laughed. "That's Merlin."

Abruptly, Eric cleared his throat. "Your Majesty. Permission to speak."

Arthur nodded. "Of course."

Eric beamed at Ariel. "Lady Siren. Have I _your_ permission to speak? In English, not Dolphin."

Ariel giggled soundlessly at the joke. Eric joined.

Wendy glanced at Jim. Jim was expressionless, but his fist was shaking.

"Regrettably, I must address the obvious." Eric said, returning to King Arthur. "It is an unhappy situation, but I feel compelled. Your Majesty, if Fantasia is protected and all is well, then I believe our esteemed guardians _must_ return to their separate realms."

"But we ca - " Peter's headdress slipped off. Rising, he glanced at Wendy. "But we just got here! You can't just say hello and goodbye!"

"I believe those are the rules." said Eric.

"Who's rules?"

Eric motioned. "His Majesty's. The Wishing Star. Ask Headmaster Mickey."

Headmaster Mickey drooped as Peter demanded an explanation.

"I'm sorry." he empathized. "But Captain Eric is right. Fantasia is protected. Fantasia is at peace. Peter, Ariel, Wendy, Jim...I am sorry. But you must return to your realms."

Peter made an unbelieving sound. Without malice, sarcasm, or spite he spun and looked at Wendy. _Do something. Do something now._

Wendy couldn't. She was powerless. They all were. The moment cracked backwards in time; each guardian relived the day they were chosen by the Wishing Star to protect Fantasia and leave forever. Each guardian relived the agony of solitude and the pain of a broken heart.

The dread was crippling.

And King Arthur noticed.

* * *

 **...**

 **Big4girl poem:**

 _ **Round 2, let's go around for a few. I think we all have a problem, but I'm being solemn, when I say I did not call you. I don't know why you're here or how, but let us focus on the now, I don't want to send you back the way you came, but those are the rules that shame over us with there single wing...but wait...aren't I the king?**_

 **...**


	31. Chapter 31: The Round Table (Round 3)

**Chapter 31: The Round Table (Round 3)**

"Well – they - they-" Arthur wrestled with his words. Finally he blurted. "They can't! The guardians can't leave Fantasia!"

Wendy practically levitated with hope. Across the table Ariel, Peter, and Jim looked ready to sprout wings.

"Your Majesty," said Eric. "I respectfully disagree. It's all a matter of logic. The guardians are unneeded so they must leave."

Taking Ariel's shoulder, Eric icily eyed Jim. " _All_ of them."

Jim almost left his chair. But the royal advisers interrupted his ascent.

"Captain Eric is spot on." agreed Captain Amelia. "It's a drudgery, but it's protocol. It would be negligent for the guardians to stay."

Arthur fidgeted. He was losing the battle.

"But the guardians can't leave!" he repeated, searching for a persuasive argument. "I need them here in Fantasia! They haven't given me a full report yet! I have more questions!"

"Well luckily the guardians are here now!" said Master Cogsworth. "They can give you a full report and leave. Really Your Majesty, I think it's time to stop overreacting – "

"But that's not all!" Arthur persisted. "I need the guardians to stay because – because – because – "

Suddenly Arthur snapped. "I need them here for my wedding!"

It was the second time Arthur had referred to Elsa, his future queen. The guardians had gauged that Arthur and Elsa's relationship was controversial (especially amongst the royal advisers), but they hadn't expected a marriage. However, King Arthur was fighting for them; so Peter, Ariel, Wendy, and Jim kept their mouths shut.

"Your wedding? Lady Elsa's coronation?" Eric chuckled. "Your Majesty _again_ I apologize. But I _don't_ think a wedding invitation will justify breaking the rules. The Wishing Star won't allow it. The guardians must leave."

"Well - I need the guardians to protect Lady Elsa." Arthur retorted. "What if I have another heart attack? What if the world blows up? Lady Elsa is my future queen and I want her safe until our wedding! The wedding is only three days away – The Wishing Star can just deal with it!"

"Your Majesty – " several advisers began.

"No more arguments!" Clearly frustrated, Arthur pointed to his crown. " _I am the king_! And by royal decree I command that the guardians stay until I am married! I am the ruler– I am the boss – I am the king! – "

Arthur slashed a hand, staying Eric's protest. "I am in charge and that is final! Stop it, lock it, put it in your pocket!"

Master Cogsworth slapped his head. _Fail. Kings do not rhyme, it's a waste of their…time. Drat._

Eric stared. He gripped Ariel's shoulder. Ariel flicked him away with her trident.

Sourly Eric consented. "Yes. Of course Your Majesty. The guardians are welcomed to stay until your wedding. Three days –"

He glanced cattily at Jim. "-Seems harmless enough."

Irritated, Arthur repositioned his crown. As Archimedes waddled across his shoulders, Arthur muttered something that sounded suspiciously like ' _duh_.'

Wendy breathed. She ran a haggard hand under her hat. Across the table, Peter and Jim were doing the same. Ariel mouthed _Thank You_ to the king. They had dodged a bullet – even if it was only for three days.

"Well! Now that we've all reached a happy-sparkly-glittery place!" Flynn clapped. "Let's break for lunch!"

"Rider." said Agent Bubbles. "Kill the enthusiasm."

"And I would suggest," Headmaster Mickey added sternly. "That the royal advisers grant King Arthur the floor. Your Majesty I believe you had questions for our guardians?"

"Yes I did." Arthur wiped his bangs. Composure regained, he resumed the meeting.

"Guardians, since you are here – _whatever the reason_ – I'd like to discuss the Outerworld, Skyworld, Seaworld, and Underworld. I've observed your realms from afar. You've worked hard for six years and made good headway. Lady Shadow Worker, you especially. The Underworld's productivity has increased over onehundred percent since your arrival. Well done."

The Underworld representatives congratulated themselves. Doc sang _heigh ho!_ Vinny greased his mustache. Fawn high-fived Terrence. Tinkerbell smirked. B.E.N. hugged Jim (Jim swore). Peter's shadow danced the Macarena.

"Yes, congratulations!" said Arthur. "But, I am also pleased with Seaworld and Skyworld."

Arthur addressed Ariel and Peter. "Lady Siren, Little Eagle – you are natural collaborators. Your realms have exchanged services, _despite_ your inability to communicate. Fantasian sailors are especially grateful for Little Eagle's winds and Lady Siren's currents – when the two forces combine, sea voyages are faster. Skyworld and Seaworld, you have exceeded my expectations. Good job."

As their constituents celebrated, Ariel and Peter pretended to fist bump.

"That being said…." Arthur scooted to face Wendy and Jim. "I would like to see more collaborations from Underworld and Outerworld. Lady Shadow Worker, I know the Underworld was in poor shape when you arrived. You've had to catch up. And Lord Hawkins, I know you are working alone. That makes things harder. However…"

Arthur leaned forward. "You are both ready to start collaborating."

Jim spoke candidly. "I agree. Wen and I discussed a collaboration yesterday. I'm building a spaceport that we think can be powered by pixie dust."

Tinkerbell groaned. Wendy gave a warning look.

"But I will say this." Jim continued. "It's easier to collaborate when we can actually talk."

Arthur nodded. "Exactly my point. Realm separation is an obstacle. The barrier between realms was created to protect Fantasia. For example, if one realm (say the Underworld) was invaded, the barrier prevented black magic from spreading to the rest of Fantasia. It would be contained. Oddly enough, the barrier is also impenetrable to cellphones…weird."

Master Cogsworth slapped his head. _Fail. Kings do not say weird._

"But we can beat the barrier." Arthur continued earnestly. "If we to work together, Fantasia will be strong. All for one, and one for all. United we stand, divided we fall."

Headmaster Mickey inwardly applauded. _Well done Arthur. Drive home that point._

"I _know_ you can do it." Arthur reiterated. "I do. Skyworld and Seaworld have already started collaborating. Underworld and Outerworld, it's time to jump on board."

Jim appeared slightly skeptical, but he did not argue. Wendy, however, was quite abashed. Feeling incompetent, she prepared to avow a triple effort.

Suddenly Peter spoke.

"Well I can't speak for the Outerworld's collaborations. _Mr._ ' _Star_ _Grinder'_ has been just a tad belligerent to the Skyworld…."

Jim glared. Daggers were exchanged. Peter continued.

" _But_ , the Lady Shadow Worker _has_ attempted collaboration, Your Majesty. Quite recently, she proposed bringing dragons to the Skyworld. And I think it's a good idea."

Peter looked at Wendy. Again, he winked.

"A very good idea."

Shyly, Wendy smiled. She made a mental note to punish Tinkerbell for lying. _Dumb a** idea her foot._

"Dragons?" Arthur turned. "Lady Shadow Worker, is this true? Is it possible? Safe?"

Wendy nodded. "I believe so Your Majesty. You see, we tried once before. The Underworld is full of dragons, but they were…uninterested in visiting the Skyworld. Dragons like gold, and it's difficult to lure them from the pixie dust. Our dragons could not be persuaded to leave. But this time…I think it may work."

"Why this time?" Arthur asked, interested.

"We've found a domesticated dragon. I believe."

Arthur was surprised. "Cool!"

 _Master Cogsworth slapped his head. Fail. Kings do not say cool._

Excitedly, Arthur sat on his knees. "Where is the domesticated dragon from?"

"We're not sure." admitted Wendy. "But the dragon had a saddle and harness. And a prosthetic tail."

"It was a night fury." Fawn added. "Night furies are the most mysterious and aggressive breed of dragon. Wendy was able to calm it, but someone must have tamed the dragon before that. Night furies pack a punch, and they never go down easy. So someone trained that dragon before it got to us."

"Vikings." Shang suddenly said from the corner. His tone was dark. "I scouted in The Otherland before coming to Fantasia. Remember, before the War Games? There is Viking Island called Berk, in Dragon Country. The Vikings have mastered the art of training dragons. One of their kind is known for it - they call him The Dragon Trainer."

"Well." Wendy reasoned. "If others can train dragons, so can we. And…I'm confident the Skyworld can handle a few trained dragons."

Peter grinned. "You bet we can."

Tinkerbell hacked. Venomously, she grumbled under her breath.

"Tinkerbell." Arthur touched Excalibur. "You are the Skyworld Liaison. Do have something to add?"

"Well I don't flipping know." Tinkerbell lugged her head at Wendy. "Do I have permission Miss Holier Than Thou?"

Jim cleared his throat dangerously. Wendy clenched her jaw, but nodded. "If it's constructive."

Tinkerbell turned to King Arthur. "Dragons are a dumb ass idea."

"Tinkerbell!" Wendy hissed.

Arthur's eyebrows raised. "Really? How so?"

"Ummmm!" Tinkerbell dumbed her voice. "Because they are DRAH –GUHNS. Hello? Monster teeth? Fire breath?"

"Which means - " Peter interjected before Wendy could reprimand. "—a dragon that can breathe _out_ fire can _also_ breathe _in_ fire. Think about that? Think that MAYBE a dragon could fly into a burning home and save a family?"

"Or eat Fantasians raw when Miss Holier Than Thou releases them to the surface?" Tinkerbell retorted.

"Dragons can be used as weapons!" Peter countered lightning fast. "If others have trained dragons, then we _better_ be able to fight fire with fire!"

"Oh come on!" Tinkerbell threw her goggles. "You are so full of it!"

"Tinkerbell!" Wendy said. "Stop – "

"Stuff it! He's wrong and I'm right!"

Peter rose. "Remember the Battle to Take Fantasia? Maleficent? Burning us all to crisps? Would have been _really_ helpful to have a dragon on our side!"

Tinkerbell spit. "Shut the flip up you bird brain piece of -"

"Tinkerbell!" Wendy barked. "Tinkerbell that is – "

"It's a stupid idea!" Tinkerbell shrieked at Peter. "And you know it!"

" _Actually_ – " Peter snarled. "It's a great idea! I trust Wendy and I think her plan is brilliant!"

"OH COME ON!" Tinkerbell shoved Wendy. "YOU ARE JUST SAYING THAT TO GET UP AND UNDER HER SKIRT!"

Jim stood so fast his chair flipped.

But Wendy beat him to it.

"That is ENOUGH!"

Rising, Wendy slammed the Round Table. The instant her hand hit a thunderclap _cracked_. All lights extinguished, even the sunlight streaming through castle windows. Colors dried into black and white like a monochromatic film, and every shadow flipped from the floor.

Wendy was furious. She was beside herself with rage. Eyes black, veins blacker, and blood roaring in her ears, Wendy bore into Tinkerbell.

"You will wait outside the door. You will not make a sound. When the meeting has ended, you will apologize to King Arthur and answer any questions he has. Do you understand?"

Tinkerbell tried to scoff. But she couldn't. Stuttering, she stared as if Wendy were a monster.

Wendy stepped. "I asked you a question: _Do you understand_?"

Tinkerbell receded. "...y – yes."

Wendy hissed. " _Good_. Shadow, take Miss Bell outside. Make sure she acts like a lady."

Peter's shadow never acquiesced so swiftly. Obediently, it swept around the pixie. Without a fight, Tinkerbell exited.

Wendy exhaled. Fury draining, she turned.

"Your Majesty I – "

She stopped, stunned.

King Arthur, the guardians, every representative, adviser, and king's affiliate were frozen. Ghost white, they stared at her, almost painfully.

"Your Majesty?" Wendy leaned. As she leaned something ice cold burned beneath her palm.

Wendy looked down. Her hand was still on the table. When she had slammed it, the shadows had pulled from their owners, stretched across the stone, and gathered under her palm. The shadows were still attached to their owners, but were strained like runaway dogs on a leash.

In her anger, Wendy had summoned the shadows.

Quickly she released. As the shadows recoiled, the room immediately brightened. Everyone gasped as their shadow returned, and Wendy herself felt lighter, warmer.

Humiliated Wendy sat. She stared at the Round Table. "Again, I apologize for my liaison's behavior. That was inexcusable. I am sorry."

Awestricken, and a little impressed, Arthur massaged his chest.

"Not at all, Lady Shadow Worker. You eh – mitigated it well."

Ariel smiled. She rubbed the fish bowl.

Flounder translated. "Extremely well."

Wendy didn't respond. She felt Peter staring at her, but could not bring herself to look up. Tinkerbell's insinuation was mortifying.

"Well." King Arthur puffed his bangs. It had been quite an eventful day. "This seems like a good time for my last question. Lord Hawkins – what is wrong with the Wishing Star?"

* * *

 **...**

 **Big4girl poem:**

 _ **Round 3 Round 3, let them hear, let it be! It shall be three they shall stay, until my wedding day.**_

 _ **I love lady elsa I do, but my heart beats not in love with her and I fear she feels the same too.**_

 **...**


	32. Chapter 32: The Round Table (Round 4)

**Chapter 32: The Round Table (Round 4)**

Jim wanted to kill everybody.

He wanted to kill the royal advisers for hounding King Arthur. He wanted to kill Headmaster Mickey for allowing them. He wanted to kill Flynn Rider for his dumb commentary. He wanted to kill Admiral Triton for the _'I-hate-You-and-You-hate-Me'_ stare-down contest. He wanted to kill B.E.N. for incessantly hugging him. He wanted to kill Tinkerbell for insulting Wendy. He wanted to kill Wendy for not bitch slapping Tinkerbell. He wanted to kill Peter Pan (that was an obvious – Jim always wanted to kill Peter), for the screwy, secret signals he was sending Wendy (and for the unsavory way he was leering at her).

Jim wanted to _kill_ Eric for flirting with Ariel. He wanted to bring Eric back to life and kill him _again_ for putting his grubby hands on her. And Jim wanted to kill _himself_ for _not actually_ killing Eric. He should have killed him. He should have killed him the second he touched Ariel.

Basically, there were two people on Jim's ' _Okay Not To Kill'_ list: Morph and King Arthur.

"You've seen the Wishing Star?" Jim addressed Arthur. "How?"

"Merlin's telescope." said Arthur. "Before disappearing, Merlin said something was wrong with the star, perhaps black magic. Do you remember Simba?"

Jim nodded. Simba had been a lion cub when Jim attended _Fantasia School for the Magically Skewed._ When their classmates picked from The Magic Bag of Tricks, Simba had been granted the magical ability to 'hear stars talking' – including the Wishing Star.

"We asked Simba to listen to the Wishing Star." Arthur explained. "Apparently it's in pain. What's more...Simba heard something about a prophesy."

"Another one?!" Flynn elbowed Admiral Triton. "Geezum this star is a mouthy little idgit!"

Admiral Triton growled. Clearly, he thought Flynn was a mouthy little idgit.

"What did the prophesy say?" asked Jim.

"That we don't know." admitted Arthur. "The Wishing Star only gave bits and pieces. After all – it is broken. It hadn't much strength to talk."

"Hold up!" Peter tapped his dagger on the table. "The Wishing Star _talked_ to Simba? As in _spoke_? As in is _alive_? As in like a _person_?"

"As in duh." Jim frostily replied. "Stars are living creatures. They're just like seashells, but without an animal inside. A star's outer shell – the part that shines – _is_ the animal. So when _idiots_ break into the Outworld and stab a star's crust – it hurts."

Peter balanced a palm over his dagger hilt. "Still crying about that, are we? Come on, the Wishing Star is dead. Not like I was dirty dancing with the stars or anything...Mr. Star GRINDER."

Peter's connotation was clear, and everyone had a mental image. However, no one dared snicker – there was a reason Jim had survived the Outerworld alone. He was a fighter; and he _did not_ fight fair.

"Star Grinder means to crush, or grind, stars into stardust." Jim said. He looked ready to grind Peter into stardust. " _Not_ the dance. Star Grinder is a lordship title given by the Queen of Etherium."

Peter grinned wickedly. " _WhatEVER_ you say."

Arthur attempted to gloss over the awkward moment.

"Etherium? What is that?"

Scowling, Ariel rubbed her fishbowl.

"And _who_ is the Queen?" asked Flounder.

Jim proceeded cautiously. "The Etherium is breathable space, galactic regions where you can survive without a mask. It's kind of like a river of air that flows between different universes. And..."

Jim glanced at Ariel. She almost scalded him with a hot, envious glare.

"And there is a queen that rules it all: The Queen of the Etherium. I met her once. She knighted me and that was all."

Jim repeated at Ariel. " _That_ _was_ _all_."

Ariel raised a brow. She glowered. _It better have been._

"Outerspace is like an ice cube tray." Jim continued, casting Ariel a ' _We'll talk later'_ look. "Think of an ice cube tray made of black velvet. Each cube is a single universe. The black velvet is interstellar space. You know, the night sky – the space between stars. It's a physical fabric separating Fantasia's universe from all others. In our universe the fabric is frayed at the edges – that's how pirates sneak in. I've been working on sewing the corners, but it's not easy."

"Actually," Jim said tangentially. "Wen that would be a good collaboration. I could use your help sewing interstellar space. Bet your needle and thread could patch space better than celestial thread."

Wendy peeked at Jim. Still humiliated by Tinkerbell's comment, she softly nodded.

"What is celestial thread?" asked Arthur.

"Celestial thread is...interesting."

Jim pretended to pull string between his fingers. "Celestial thread is like a nerve or electrical wire energizing a star. Celestial thread _also_ attaches a star to the fabric of space. Think of an electrical outlet – the celestial thread plugs the star into the night sky and powers it with energy."

Arthur almost said ' _cool_ ' again. Master Cogsworth's _"uh uh uh!"_ prevented him.

Jim continued.

"Celestial thread looks like spider silk, and honestly it's not much stronger. The Wishing Star was stitched together with celestial thread, and that's why it broke so easily. But that was the star itself, the shell. The trouble starts when the celestial thread starts to unravel from the space fabric – you know, the velvet I mentioned before. If the star and the celestial thread are ripped from the space fabric – you get two things..."

Jim lifted his fingers. "One, a shooting star. Two, a black hole. The shooting star annihilates everything in it's path. And the black hole creates an opening to the next universe."

"So." Arthur repeated. "What is wrong with the Wishing Star? How does this relate?"

Jim contemplated before responding.

"The Wishing Star's left and right pieces are still attached to space. However...the fabric between them...is stretched. Really stretched. It's almost...it's almost like..."

Jim chewed on his words. "It's almost like there's a suction, like something is straining the space between the stars. The fabric is thinning. It's ready to split - and that would be bad."

"Why?" asked King Arthur.

"Because the Wishing Star was half of a portal." said Jim. "Remember? There was a magical portal between the Wishing Star and the Black Cauldron. Portals act like vacuums in a tube, sucking up or sucking down. I _know_ you destroyed the cauldron, and I _know_ Ariel trapped it inside the whirlpool."

"But." Jim cautioned. "I _don't know_ what will happen if the Wishing Star's fabric rips. The portal might just wither. The Black Cauldron fragments might suck up into space. The interstellar region...might suck down into Fantasia. Either way, if the fabric rips, Fantasia will be vulnerable. A black hole will open, and invaders will come from Neverland."

"Neverland?" Peter frowned. A memory tugged the back of his mind. "Neverland, isn't that –? "

"Yes." Jim waited for Wendy to look up. He half smiled. "Neverland is a term coined by Wen, I can't take credit for it. Think it was a story you wrote, right? Remember that composition notebook? Well... _Neverland_ is what I call the universes that are not our own. _Neverland_ is the world behind the Wishing Star."

Wendy and Jim shared a smile. She silently thanked him. He silently returned.

"Lord Hawkins." Arthur spoke over the apprehensive murmurs. "What does this mean for Fantasia?"

Heavily, Jim sighed. "It means we better be careful. The Outerworld is filthy with alien pirates. Fantasia's universe is healthy, which makes it a target for pillaging. Two pirates named Captain Flint and Ironbeard have been skulking Fanasia's interstellar outskirts for years. If the Wishing Star's fabric rips, they'll have a clear shot to our planet. So we just have to be careful..."

Jim glanced out the window. "Very careful."

Silence. Jim waited for his audience to absorb. "Any more questions?"

King Arthur rose. "No. Thank you Lord Hawkins."

Striding briskly, Arthur hopped from the Round Table. Excalibur _chinked_ as he landed. Somberly, Arthur returned to his chair.

"I thank you for your presence, your attention, your patience, and your reports. Your information is most helpful, and I will review it with utmost care. I call this meeting adjourned, and command the guardians enjoy their three days in Fantasia before I am wed. Guardians, you are free to go, again with my thanks. Oh but Lady Shadow Worker...could you stay a moment?"

Wendy paused. Her gaze caught Peter before shifting to the king.

"Yes. Certainly, Your Majesty."

* * *

 **...**

 **Big4girl poem:**

 _ **The wishing star is torn and I don't want any pain or scorn. This is a stressful job and I'm just a boy.**_

 _ **I'm totally stressed, it all feels so fake, is the star going to break?**_

 **...**

* * *

 **sultal's note: So, along with the "no OC policy" of this story...**

 **Captain Flint is obviously one of the characters from Treasure Planet 1.**

 **BUUUUT, Ironbeard is actually a character from the Disney storyboard of Treasure Planet 2 (which never made it to movie production...why idk). So I decided to include Ironbeard - the concept art for that guy is creeeeeeepy.**

 **And finally, the Queen of the Etherium is also a Treasure Planet character - I believe she was in a video game created by Disney.**


	33. Chapter 33: I'm Bringing Sexy Back

**Chapter 33: I'm Bringing Sexy Back**

Even after Tinkerbell was retrieved, forced to apologize, and dismissed, Wendy remained incredibly apologetic.

"Your Majesty I am _so_ sorry. I can't even begin to – "

Arthur laughed. "Wendy, it's okay! I didn't want you to stay so I could reprimand you!"

Indulgently, Arthur removed his crown. He exhaled deeply, as if the unloading allowed his brain to breath. Setting his crown upon the Round Table, Arthur ruffled his hair.

"Not at all! Jumping harptoads. Wendy, I actually wanted to thank you."

Wendy felt a little improper. Arthur's kingliness had completely evaporated; he addressed her like a fellow student, not a monarch. And after the day's grandiosities and formalities, Arthur's informality seemed inappropriate. Wendy half expected Master Cogsworth to burst through the doors and arrest her for discourteous communication.

"Thank me, Your Majesty?"

"Yes. I'm still so new at this king thing." Arthur motioned vaguely to his crown. "And stuff like that happens all the time. You know, the quarreling, second guessing, insulting, undermining my authority. Totally normal. No one takes a teenage king seriously. But you did. So – thanks."

Wendy was emphatic. "Well _of_ _course_! _Of course_ Your Majesty! You – "

"Arthur."

"Pardon?"

Lightly, Arthur punched Wendy's shoulder. "Come on – we went to school together. You know me. I'm Arthur. Not Your Majesty, not Sire, not Your Holy High Worship. It's Arthur."

"Oh no." Wendy insisted. "I don't think that's proper. You are the king. You deserve – "

"I know, I know. But I don't keep calling you Lady Shadow Worker. It's too formal. Same with me. Could you and the other guardians, you know when we're not in court...call me Arthur? Please?"

Wendy knew she should respectfully decline. But Arthur's pain was transparent: he was lonely. Wendy recognized it immediately. Even without directly saying so, Arthur's loneliness was expressed a hundred different ways: he attempted jokes with his advisers; he pitied the guardians and lied to give them three days together; he threw himself heart and soul into every task; he addressed Wendy informally, as a friend; he wished (almost begged) for Merlin to return.

It was curious. Arthur was surrounded by _thousands_. He was admired, championed, mentored, and defended. Literally, all of Fantasia stood beside him.

But Arthur was alone.

"You miss Master Merlin." Wendy said softly. "Don't you?"

Arthur nodded. "He was...my best friend."

"...you're lonely."

"Yes. And you've been lonely too?"

Wendy picked at her hand guard. She thought of the Underworld.

"Dreadfully. But...I think we all are."

"Yeah." Arthur sighed. Dutifully he replaced his crown. "Not fun. I'm sorry, it's my fault after all. It was my decision that ultimately made you guardians, and I know it's not fair. It's not easy being alone. But, at least you have three days."

"Before the wedding? Oh, I meant to say thank you." Wendy spoke earnestly. "You didn't have to convince them to let us stay. That was very kind. _Very_ kind."

"It was the least I could do. You've all worked hard. A vacation was in order – however short."

"But you're getting married." Wendy smiled encouragingly. "To Elsa? Congratulations. That will be lovely, won't it?"

Wendy had meant to be uplifting, but Arthur turned grim. Solemnly, he fingered Excalibur.

"Perhaps." he finally said, and Wendy was surprised by his candor. "We will see at the coronation I suppose. Time will tell."

Abruptly, Arthur brightened. His cheer was artificial, but he smiled genuinely at Wendy.

"What am I doing? Wendy, you've got three days to start enjoying. I'm wasting your time. Thank you for staying, I'll take leave of you now. So get out of here - "

He kicked humorously. "Have fun."

Wendy curtsied. Arthur acknowledged. They made to depart.

At the door, Wendy suddenly spoke. "Your Majesty?"

Arthur paused. "Yes?"

Wendy spoke from the bottom of her heart. "I think you're doing a _marvelous_ job...Arthur."

Arthur smiled decadently. "Thanks Wendy. See you in three days."

The castle corridors were empty. Wendy had expected, and hoped, that Peter would linger. However, after scanning the hallway, walls, and ceiling Wendy was disappointed. Peter was gone.

But Jim had waited. Rounding an archway, Wendy found him in deep conversation with Chief Powhatan. As she approached their discussion was closed, and Chief Powhatan respectfully departed.

"Ana, Lord Hawkins."

"Later Chief Powhatan. Thanks for the information."

Motorcycle helmet under his arm, Jim turned to Wendy.

"Remind me not to get on your bad side. Holy shit Wen – that was awesome."

"Language." Wendy reminded as they strode down the hall. Morph and Peter's shadow trailed behind. "And what was awesome?"

"Are you kidding?" Jim ducked as Morph bounced overhead. "Tinkerbell?"

Triumphantly, Peter's shadow pretended to blow a trumpet. But Wendy's anger resurfaced like a volcano.

"I can't _believe_ she said that! Of all the horrid, vulgar insinuations! In front of everybody – the king's court no less! What must they think of me?"

"They think your bad ass."

"I've had enough of her cheek and enough of her commentary!" Wendy vented. Jim smiled as she stomped down the stairs. "This has gone far enough, first she disobeys my orders and abandons that poor dragon, then she insults King Arthur without the slightest bit of recompense, and then that awful, awful suggestion that Peter – that he – ohhhhhh!"

Wendy paused as the shadow ecstatically karate-chopped her hat.

"I am fit to be tide!" she announced.

"Understatement of the day." Jim said. "I can't believe you almost scalped our souls. Wen, what was that?"

" _What_ was _what_?"

"What you did? When you hit the table? All of our shadows just flew up and...I dunno. It felt like my shadow was stretching from my body. And then you got all Halloween."

"I got all what?" Wendy frowned, frustrated. "Halloween?"

"Yeah – Wen it was freaky. Your eyes went totally black – like marbles, or coal. Your veins too – black. Your skin looked transparent. The room got dark and grey. It was creepy as crap. Haven't you ever done that before?"

They descended a second stairwell.

"No." said Wendy, a little disturbed. "Never."

Jim skipped steps. "Well Morph almost wet himself. Wen – it was _so_ bad ass."

"Jim _please_. Language."

"Sorry. Hats off to you."

Opportunistically. Peter's shadow snatched Wendy's hat. After a victorious cartwheel, it flung her bowler like a Frisbee, chased after it, and threw again.

"Shadow!" Wendy clambered up the stairs. "Shadow – ohh! Well this is just getting absurd!"

Jim unbuckled his blaster. "Want me to stun it?"

"Don't be ridiculous."

"Please. After Peter's crap today." Jim eyed the shadow hungrily. "The pleasure would be mine."

"No." Wendy trudged upwards. "Let me do it. That shadow needs to learn how to behave, anyway."

"Sure?"

"Positively."

"Okay. What do you want on your pizza?"

"What?"

"Pizza." Jim leaned on the railing. "Ariel's waiting with Peter outside. Apparently we're going to _Tony's_ because quote on quote ' _everybody_ ' wants to catch up. I dunno, whatever. So what do you want on your pizza? Just cheese?"

Distracted, Wendy continued after the shadow. "Yes. Fine. Thank you. Shall I meet you outside?"

"Yeah. My bike's parked out back behind the castle somewhere. Oh shit." Jim slapped his thigh. "Shit Peter's probably messing with my bike. Wen, I gotta – "

"Go on." Wendy jogged the last three steps. "I'll be there. Shadow! Shadow come back!"

As she called, the shadow slowed. Bending over, it peeked between its legs. Seeing that Wendy was chasing, it donned her hat and increased speed.

"Shadow!" Wendy ran. Skidding around sharp corners, she panted as the shadow bobbed just out of reach. "Shadow that's enough! I am in no mood! Shadow – drop the hat! Drop it!"

The shadow did drop the hat. Three flights down.

"Unbelievable."

Wendy descended the castle steps. Glaring at the shadow (spinning on a chandelier), she walked to her hat. "This day cannot get any unrulier."

Wendy knelt. The second she dropped, someone seized her skirt, grabbed her bottom, and squeezed.

 _That_ was the last straw.

Wendy spurred upright. Flicking her wrist, extracting her needle, and raising her arm, Wendy spun around –

-and collided into Peter Pan's lips.

Peter smoothed Wendy against the wall. Holding her arm overhead to deflect the needle, he kissed her long and hard.

In time, Peter released. Between breaths, he whispered.

"Hullo pretty girl."

Wend opened her mouth to respond but Peter clamped his over hers. He ate her up, chewing, sucking, and devouring. And Wendy devoured him right back.

Peter smiled. Slyly, he lowered a hand from her cheek.

"You know what? Tink was right." Pressing closer, Peter slid a hand under Wendy's skirt. "I can't wait to get up and under."

Wendy slapped his hand away.

"Just kiss me silly boy."

Peter grinned. "Close second."

Their reunion was short, hardly a handful of kisses, but Peter and Wendy managed to redeem six years of passion in the moment.

Overhead, hidden in the rafters, Tinkerbell watched. Her eyes gleamed green in the shadows.

"So...Mr. Sex Maniac can't wait huh?"

Tinkerbell rubbed her hands. She smirked evilly at Wendy.

"Well. I bet Miss Virtue _can_."

* * *

 **...**

 **Big4girl poem:**

 _ **I'm bringing sexy back, I'm peter pan and I now just how to act, to get all the ladies for myself, but Wendy's the only lady I want to keep, she's definitely not cheap.**_

 **...**


	34. Chapter 34: Confusing

**Chapter 34: Confusing**

"Well that was confusing."

Sinbad was confused. That didn't happen often. Sure, he was a fanatic adventurer with an unhealthy proclivity for near death experiences. But Sinbad was smart. And he did not understand _anything_ Pitch, Captain Hook, or Ruber had just said. _Something about The King? Something about a prophecy? Something about The King's resurrection? Something about a screwy sword in a screwy stone?_

Confusing _._

Furthermore, Sinbad did not understand why they had dragged two more casualties aboard : a teenage girl and magician. Neither were armed. Neither were threatening. They were just dead weight.

Confusing.

"Yeah." Sinbad repeated. "Ya lost me, bruh. That was confusing."

Pitch folded his hands. Sinbad reclined. He had quickly learned that getting too close to Pitch triggered nightmares. Moreover, the nightmares reoccurred.

Sinbad shuddered. Since Pitch had boarded _The Princess_ , he had been dreaming about his son. Sinbad would wake in the middle of the night to sound of his son screaming, begging him not to go. The memory haunted Sinbad. Plus, it was cutting into his beauty sleep.

"Confusing?" Pitch puckered mockingly. "Poor Sinbad. Tell me, what don't you understand? After all, you are sponsoring this little jaunt."

Sinbad rolled his eyes.

"If I were sponsoring, we'd be hijacking straight to Figi. Sunscreen and bikinis baby."

"Well we are not. We are sailing to Fantasia. So I will ask again." Pitch repeated. "What don't you understand, Sinbad?"

"It's Captain." corrected Sinbad.

"Mutinied." re-corrected Ruber.

"Get on with it." said Captain Hook.

"All right! Fine!" Sinbad pulled his face. He made a mental note to kill Ruber someday.

"Testy, testy. Okay, let me get this straight. Pitch – you pop out of a creepy whirlpool with Hook's zombie army. You were bamboozled by the Otherland guardians in the Dark Ages, BUT you mystically came back to life via the shadows mixed inside the creepy whirlpool. SO, you hate the Otherland guardians and decided that they gotta go. Savvy?"

"So far." said Pitch. He sounded bored.

Sinbad leaned against the quarterdeck bulkwark. Below, waves hissed under the ship's rudder.

"Solid. Okay next: As a conglomerate of shadows, you were trapped inside the whirlpool BY Fantasia's four guardians and boy king. ERGO – you hate Fantasia, Fantasia's guardians, and Fantasia's king who is currently reigning because he pulled sword from a stone. You decided that they ALSO gotta go. Savvy, savvy?"

Pitch bristled, angered by the memory. "Correct."

"Okay. Now _here's_ the part I don't understand." Sinbad pressed his eyebrow. "You parade around my ship, announcing a vendetta against ' _a king with a magical sword_.' You neglect to provide name and country of said king. SO, Ruber misunderstands – _shocker_ by the way – and kills _our_ king, The King of the Otherland like the scum-sucking-scallywag he is."

Sinbad paused to stick his tongue at Ruber (He was feeling juvenile). After Ruber attempted to cut his tongue off, Sinbad continued.

"However, when ALL hope for revenge is lost, you happen chance upon a magical prophesy!"

Sinbad twinkled his fingers. "Oooooo! Magical! And luckily, just by coincidence, the prophecy states that The King of the Otherland….is _actually_ …the king of Fantasia."

"Yes." Pitch glared skyward. His glared between the Wishing Star and The Man in the Moon. "King Arthur. Alias, the Once and Future King."

"Annnnnnnnnnnnnd...no body else but me thinks this is INCREDIBLY far-fetched?"

"Correct again."

"Uh huh." Sinbad scratched his goatee. "Sooooooooo. Now that Captain Hooky and _The Jolly Roger_ have _finally_ caught up, we are frisking away to Fantasia. Once I get us inside the country, we're going to kidnap the folks you need to fix the Black Cauldron, nab the guardians, abduct the king, steal his sword, throw the lot into the Black Cauldron, and basically kill everybody else?"

Pitch turned from the Wishing Star. "Precisely."

Sinbad _guhmphed_. "Ya got ambition Pitch."

"And you hardly seemed confused."

"Not confused." Idly, Sinbad swung his scimitar. "Skeptical. Couple parts of your glorious P-L-A-N are a little leaky for my taste."

"Such as?"

" _Such_ _as_? Boy do I have to spell them out?"

"Can I stop you?" Pitch asked sarcastically.

Sinbad barreled ahead. "First – you've promised Ruber the country. Actually, you've promised him _two_ countries, The Otherland and Fantasia. I still maintain that is the WORST idea ever, but for _kicks_ _and_ _giggles_ let's pretend it's not. Let's pretend you take over. Here's my question: how are you going to fight? Fantasia's got armies, navies, the works! And I can _guarantee_ if you kidnap this King Arthur dude, Fantasia will retaliate. Fantasia's like that – moral compass generally points north."

"And!" Sinabd pointed. "The Otherland won't just _accept_ a new king, _especially_ one ugly as Ruber. Once people figure out that throne is empty, they will be busting their butts to rule. The Vikings _alone_ could conquer the country in their sleep."

"Oh." Ruber simpered. "Fret not of the Vikings."

"I don't fret." Sinbad retorted. "Too girly."

"You forget." continued Ruber, hand upon his hilt. "Drago can subdue a dragon with a single war cry. I've sent Drago to rally Chief Stoick. Drago and Chief Stoick will raid the Fantasians and swear allegiance to me."

"Stoick's gonna love that."

"When Drago controls his trained dragons..." Ruber smirked. "Stoick won't have a choice. And as for the Fantasians…leave that to Pitch Black and Captain Hook. We're going to have a little…. _surprise party_ in Fantasia."

Sinbad snorted. "Way to be vague and mysterious. What am I like twelve? _Surprise party_ – euphuism for maiming, raping, and chopping off heads. Again, good plan: us against an ENTIRE country. That'll work REAL well. Not."

Pitch laughed. Leisurely, he extended a finger towards Sinbad. Immediately Sinbad withdrew, his scimitar raised.

"You forget." whispered Pitch, smoky images twisting between his fingers. "I have the greatest weapon of all: fear. Captain Hook and Maleficent will attack first; that will confuse the Fantasians. Ruber will attack second; that will hurt them. My shadows, my nightmares, will attack third; _that_ will win the battle. Take a little confusion, a little pain…and mix in _fear_ …"

Pitch clenched his fist. The shadow inside his hand screamed.

"And Fantasia is mine. All I need is a way under their beds…and into their minds."

Sinbad waited for his internal organs to unknot. He had to admit – Pitch's plan was perfect. Terrifying. But perfect.

"What if something goes wrong?" Sinbad asked.

" _Nothing_ will go wrong." Pitch assured. He gestured to _The Jolly Roger_ , drifting off the starboard bow. "So long as that magician imprisoned, Excalibur cannot be magicked away. We've vowed not to kill the magician or the girl yet…but they would be lovely candidates to throw into the Black Cauldron. Test run, you might say."

"Which reminds me." Sinbad jut out his chin. "I want to know who you need to repair the Black Cauldron. You said you needed four people – one to die, two to fix the cauldron, and one to fix the Wishing Star. I'm not _fond_ of the ambiguity. This is my ship. This is my expedition. This is my dumb luck."

Sinbad crossed his arms. "I want to know. Spill it. Who are they?"

Pitch recoiled. Distrustfully, he regarded Sinbad.

"I'm waiting." Sinbad sung.

"Oh tell him." Captain Hook ginned. "Sinbad's loyalties flow with the wind. He has no allegiance to the guardians. He only wants to save his whore."

Sinbad twitched. His muscles burned as he forced them to remain still. The effort was extraordinary – Sinbad wanted to peel Hook apart layer by layer for slurring his wife. But he needed to behave. As a pirate, Sinbad understood the schemes of evil men – if he disobeyed _once_ , they would never let him take Sarah Hawkins alive. Bargain or no bargain.

Pitch stroked his chin. Reluctantly he spoke.

"I need four. The one to die is a guardian of the Otherland. You will leave him to me. The two that will rebuild the Black Cauldron shall combine powers of dark and cold. One is a Fantasian guardian – a shadow worker. The other is not a guardian - with powers over snow and ice. They must be captured and brought to me. And the final one to fix the Wishing Star is a Fantasian guardian. The guardian of the Outerworld. He must also be delivered to me."

Sinbad unfolded his arms. "Otherland guardian, shadow worker, snow freak, and Outerworld guardian – got it. Well. Was that so hard?" Sinbad sugared his voice. "See how easy it is to play nice?"

Pitch whispered threateningly. "I want them Sinbad. No tricks. If you want your… _Sarah_ …then I had best get Fantasia's guardians and her king."

"Hey." Sinbad descended the quarterdeck stairs. "You know my two favorite words: _damn straight_."

 _And my other two favorite words._ Sinbad immediately thought. _Yeah Right._

The night was cold. And as was common on cold nights, the stars seemed to shine brighter. As Sinbad crossed to the forecastle deck (the farthest distance from Pitch, Ruber, and Captain Hook that _The Princess_ allowed) he calculated.

Sinbad had _no_ intention of remaining mutinied. He had _every_ intention of deserting Pitch in Fantasia, scraping up loyal shipmates, recapturing his ship, and shanghaiing Sarah Hawkins to the high seas. Admittedly, the plan was still a work in progress; so far Sinbad's strategy was _'cross your fingers and hope not to die_.'

But one step at a time. Sinbad could improvise an escape. That wasn't the hard part. The hard part would be kidnapping Sarah.

Sinbad hunched over the bulwark. Doffing the enchanted seashell necklace, he wound the chain reflectively. Smiling in the pale glow, Sinbad imagined Sarah's reaction when he arrived. _She was probably going to hit him. Right where it hurt. Adorable_.

Gently, Sinbad thumped the ship's hull.

"Faster girl." he whispered. "We're almost to Fantasia. Faster."

"Oi. For the love of Eris. You're not really going through with it, are you Sinbad?"

Sinbad jumped. He almost dropped the necklace as Marina appeared beside him. Leaning tantalizingly against his shoulder, she flicked the seashell pendant.

"You're not _really_ going to save _her_? Are you? That woman? That slut?"

Again, Sinbad's muscles tensed. Pocketing the necklace, he swung into the tangled shrouds.

"Find what loyal members you can." he ordered. Climbing hand over fist, Sinbad glanced darkly astern. "Once my wife is aboard, we're ditching Pitch."

Marina watched Sinbad disappear into the sails. His shadow wavered behind the moonlit canvases.

"So." Marina hissed, turning towards the quarter deck. "You must think I'm one of the loyal. Oh Sinbad. Oh poor, lovesick Sinbad."

* * *

 **...**

 **Big4girl poem:**

 _ **Confusing, Confusing, it's confusing me Sinbad! I've been here for so long and it makes me so mad, that your going to ditch me for another woman, so tell me if you can. Is this the end of us Sinbad? Please, honey. You don't want to make me your enemy, you don't want me to forget what we had. Poor, Poor Sinbad.**_

 **...**


	35. Chapter35: I Wanna Reach Out And Grab Ya

**Chapter 35: I Wanna Reach Out And Grab Ya**

Peter decided: he was just too popular.

Sigh. What a burden. He was just too spectacular, he was just too wonderful, he was just too charming, he was just too irresistible, oh the list went ON and ON! _Everybody_ who was _anybody_ wanted a piece of The Pan. Sigh again.

Really, it was just incredible how awesome he was.

And it was cramping his style.

Peter couldn't get a _second_ alone with Wendy! Not one lousy second! Okay, the kissing _had_ been gratifyingly private, but Peter needed more time. After all, ' _kissing'_ was only one item on his agenda. Upon arrival, Peter had realized his time in Fantasia was limited. So, he drew a list of priorities, and it was divided as follows:

 **(1) Find Wendy**

 **(2) Kiss Wendy**

 **(3) French kiss Wendy (if she lets me) ****

 **(4) Grope Wendy (if she lets me) ****

 **(5) Say "Hello" to Wendy**

 **(6) Repeat Items 1 - 4 (heeding ** notations)**

 **(7) Ask Wendy WTF is going on between her and Terrence; remind her that she is engaged to the awesomest guy in the world; and demand to know why she hasn't freaking contacted me in 6 years**

 **(8) Repeat Items 1-4 (heeding ** notations)**

 **(9) Actually listen to Wendy's explanation to Item 7**

 **(10) Repeat Steps 1-4 (heeding ** notations)**

 **(11) Be awesome Peter Pan. Inform Wendy she is a lucky girl.**

 **(12) Laugh at Wendy's reaction to Item 11.**

The list was long and Peter was proud of it. Sure, the items were a little touchy-feely (okay a lot touchy-feely), but Peter hadn't purged his desires in _six_ _years_. It had driven him crazy. For six years he had obsessed over Wendy; she interrupted his _every_ thought.

There had been nights where Peter would relive their first kiss one hundred times over. Other days he would focus solely on her hair, imagining how it would feel wet, windswept, sandy, muddy, washed, dried, up, down, curled, straight, bow, no bow.

But most frequently, Peter had wasted _hours_ daydreaming of the perfect wedding, right down to Wendy's wedding dress (lace, trumpet silhouette, a million satin buttons down the back for him to undo...good god he was going insane).

To say Wendy was distracting was an understatement. Peter wanted her. Badly.

So, when Peter saw Wendy for the first time, hand in hand with Jim...it was too much. Peter played it cool, but his emotions flopped around like fish. He'd _instantaneously_ felt timid as a pixie, aggressive as a monster, and _extremely_ possessive. Peter wanted custody of Wendy, and he wanted _everybody_ to know it - especially Miss Darling and her "best friend."

"Flynn. Aladdin. C'm here." Peter huddled between his two best buddies. Secretively, they schemed.

There was no need to whisper; they were in _Tony's_ _Restaurant_ and it was packed. Tony had taken advantage of King Arthur's spontaneous holiday; he was the only business open. The celebrating Fantasians were ravenous for pizza and Tony was raking in the dough! (pizza pun, totally intended).

Moreover, Tony was hosting a high school reunion for the guardians and their old classmates. For the first time in six years, the kids that had "taken Fantasia" were reunited. _Mama Mia! Busy, busy, busy_!

Currently, Ariel was swamped by a billion chattering girls: Rapunzel, Anna, Cinderella, Nani, Jasmine, Megara, Giselle, Snow White, and Tiana (Tiana didn't approve of _Tony's_ \- the restaurant was her competition - but she made an appearance). Couples joined the circle: Alice and Reggie Hatter, Belle and Adam, Aurora and Phillip.

Peter approved. _Good. Ariel was preoccupied._ _No way she was escaping that gaggle without body slamming her way out. Check one._

Peter scanned the restaurant. Sitting serenely in a corner booth, Wendy had preferred to avoid the spotlight. That was great, Peter wanted Wendy alone. But there was a BIG problem - and he was sitting directly across from Wendy.

"Rat Tail." Peter hooked Aladdin and Flynn. He nodded at Wendy and Jim's booth. "Kay boys, just like old times. Show Rat Tail a wild time, and make it long. Humiliating wouldn't hurt either. I gotta speak with my woman alone."

"Yo, dude. I'm a celebrity now!" Aladdin flicked up his plastic shutter shades. "If I get arrested again, Prince Ali will be the bad boy rapper of the tabloids!"

"That a bad thing?"

"...good point! Aw Pete! I've missed your evil intelligence!"

"I swear to god if one of you try to kiss me again - "

"Speaking of which," Flynn clicked his teeth. "How was Wendy baby?"

"Oh like _POW_!"

"Base?"

"Work in progress."

"Still first huh?"

"Shut up. Look." Peter eyed Wendy. "Just make sure Rat Tail is out of the picture. Got it?"

Aladdin cracked his knuckles. Flynn saluted. "No worries Pete."

"Awesome. Okay!" Peter thrust his hand in the center. "On three?"

Flynn and Aladdin seized Peter's hand. "On three! One - two - three - !"

"Lost boys!" They barked. Then they spit.

Peter wiped saliva from his hand. "I've missed you guys. Okay. Rat Tail - toast him."

Flynn and Aladdin fist bumped. They stepped, and then they stopped.

"Looks like we won't have to. Check it."

"GIACOMO!"

Tony had found Jim. Spewing Italian, he kissed Jim twice on the cheek, ruffled his hair, and hauled him to the kitchens to make a specialty guardian pizza.

"When the moon hits your eye like a big pizza pie..." Peter wove between Aladdin and Flynn "...it's amore. Ready or not pretty girl, here I come."

Peter sauntered to the booth. Somehow Wendy sensed his gaze and turned. Her blue eyes shown neon against the red checkered table cloth.

Peter tripped. Covering the blunder with a suave smile, he slunk beside her.

"Hey."

"Hello."

"I'm here."

Wendy glanced sardonically at the kitchens. Faint singing (Tony) and clear protesting (Jim) could be heard from inside.

"Conveniently." she replied.

"Wuh-ho. Smart girl." Peter inched closer. "Okay. Tonight. You and me. Here's what we're gonna - "

"Hiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii Peeeeeeeeeeeeeeeter!"

Peter turned, hand resting on Wendy's knee. He smiled brightly as a flock girls dripped over the table. Most were pixies. Some were mermaids. The others: adoring fans.

"Hiya girls!"

"Peter!" They gushed. "It's been so long!"

" _So_ long!"

"Peter you look good!"

" _So_ good!"

Arista stroked his hair. She giggled as Peter nipped her fingers. "Did you miss me?"

"Sure." Without looking, Peter tickled Wendy's knee. "Ya miss me?"

"SO. MUCH."

"Swell." Peter crept his hand between Wendy's thighs. He smiled as she grabbed it. "Broken hearts club, huh?"

"TO-TAL -LY!"

"Hasn't affected your beauty sleep I see."

Wendy fumed as the girls squealed. Tightlipped, she wrestled with Peter's hand under the table. Thoroughly enjoying himself Peter grabbed and pinched.

" _Ymph_!" Wendy jumped. Peter smirked as she shoved his hand and swerved angrily to the wall.

Noticing Wendy for the first time, the girls appraised her. Rosetta whispered to Arista. Arista snickered. Imperiously they returned to Peter.

"We're going dancing tonight Peter! Prince Ali is performing! You're coming, riiiight?"

"Yeah!" Suddenly, Terrence, Bobble, and Clank appeared from the outskirts. Peter stiffened as Terrence squirmed to the front. "Yeah Wendy, you can finally come this time! Bring the shadow! It'll be a flitterific blast - "

"She can't." Peter reached across the seat. Eyes narrowed on Terrence, he cupped Wendy's sleeve. "She's busy."

The pixies teased. "Big surprise. Workaholic."

"But _you'll_ be there Peter?" Arista bounced off the table. "Riiiiiight?"

Peter buffed his fingernails. "Might make an appearance. See you there?"

"Okay! Byyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyye!"

"Bye girls." Peter waved. Grin melting, he turned to Terence. "I said _buh-bye_!"

Remorsefully, Terence departed. Peter waited until Flynn and Aladdin escorted him out.

"Phew!" Peter slapped the table. Sunnily, he met Wendy's glare. "Geeze that was annoying, huh?"

Her glare deepened. "Them or you?"

"Me? What did I - _ohhhhhh_. Oh oh _ohhhhhhh_." Peter leaned Wendy into the corner. "Jealous?"

"Jealous? Certainly not. You're behavior was - "

"I think - " Peter tiptoed his fingers up her corset. "-someone is adorable when she's jealous."

Wendy pushed his hand. "And I think someone is ABhorable when he's flirtatious."

" _I'm_ the one that's flirtatious?" Peter threw his head. "That's rich! Okay how about this - since when do you like blondes?"

"I _beg_ your pardon?"

"Bllllllonnnnnnddddddddessss." Peter articulated. Mockingly, he high-pitched his voice. " _Yeah Wendy, you can finally come this time! Bring the shadow! It'll be flitterific_ blah, blah, blah, blah, blah! Pathetic. When'd you get so chummy with Terrence?"

"Terrence? I never - "

"Hear you two make _quite_ the romantic couple down there in the Underworld."

" _What_? Who said that?"

"I _have_ my sources!"

"Well your _sources_ are wrong!" Wendy snapped. "And _perhaps_ if you had taken a _moment_ to respond to my letters, you would know perfectly well that -"

"Whoa, whoa! Hold it. What letters?"

"My letters!" Wendy exclaimed. Peter reclined, startled by her frustration. "The letters I sent you, not one of them returned! Peter I sent _dozens_ of letters, sometimes about nothing at all, and you never _once_ responded, or sent a message, or gave the slightest indication that - "

"I never got them."

"Y-you what?"

"I never got a letter." Seriously, Peter shook his head. "Wendy I haven't heard from you in six years. Not once. Not even a thank you."

"Thank you?"

Peter frowned. "Flowers? On your birthday?"

Wendy stared. For a moment she did not speak. When she did, Peter could hardly hear.

"That was you? The lilies? The violets? The forget me...nots... _Forget me nots_." Dismayed, Wendy inhaled and exhaled. "Oh."

Peter took her hand. "I always put forget me nots. You know...forget me not? Play on words...anyway. But the rest of the flowers were different each year. You know - roses on your sixteenth, tulips on your seventeenth, orchids on your eighteenth, snapdragons on your..."

He read her blank expression.

"You never got them."

Wendy swallowed. "Only this year. They were... _so_ beautiful. Shadow brought them. Peter I...who delivered your others?"

"Who delivered your letters?"

They thought. Then together they spoke.

"Tinkerbell."

Wendy pressed her forehead. Peter wedged his knees against the table. Hugging Wendy's shoulders, he gave a cheerful rub.

"Geeze. Tinkerbell strikes again. Which Underworld bozo made her the liaison?"

Guiltily, Wendy bit a lip. "...well."

" _You_?" Peter almost threw up laughing. He squeezed Wendy as she tried to wriggle away. " _You're_ the bozo?"

"Well she's good at it!" Wendy said testily. As Peter cackled, she maneuvered away. "No one else could find you! The Skyworld is too big and you fly too fast! I was desperate to reach you, so I asked Tinkerbell to be the liaison because I knew she'd want to find you because she - she-! Oh you and your silly - "

"You are _so_ _cute_ when you're jealous!"

"I - am -not - jealous!"

"Oh sure you are! You are jealous as jealous can be! And -!"

Abruptly, Peter dove for a kiss. Taking Wendy's neck he held, savoring the feeling. Gently releasing, Peter whispered. "And you my dear, are also very, _very_ engaged."

Wendy tried to stay mad She couldn't. Peter waited for her to blush. She did. _So predictable. So stinking cute._

"I was..." Wendy sparkled. "...beginning to wonder."

Peter scooched. He placed two hands on the wall, trapping her.

"I _told_ you this when I proposed, pretty girl: I'm not risking a life without you. You really don't have a say."

Smiling, Wendy lowered as he leaned. "You are _so_ conceited Peter Pan."

Hooking her chin, Peter lowered after her. "And that's why you think I'm cute."

"Wen."

Peter paused a hair from Wendy's lips. _Rat Tail._ Groaning, he shifted as Wendy hastily sat up.

"Jim." Needlessly, Wendy brushed her hair. "Jim I'm sorry, I didn't see you there. Oh goodness, is that from Tony?"

Wendy indicated to the pizza tray in Jim's hands. The pizza was an edible masterpiece, piping hot from the brick oven and sectioned into the guardian's four favorite toppings: cheese and basil for Wendy; pepperoni and anchovies for Ariel; olive and onion for Jim; everything for Peter (including M&M's, kiwi, and bacon).

It was a monster. Wendy had clearly hoped that referencing the pizza would deter Jim's attention. But she was mistaken.

Glaring at Peter, Jim set the tray.

"Ariel asked for you Wen." he said. "Rapunzel wants to say hi."

"Oh Rapunzel!" Thankful for a graceful exit, Wendy edged by Peter. "Yes of course! Thank you Jim. You boys start eating, I'll be right - "

"No, no, no!" Peter lunged. Hanging off the booth, he seized Wendy's wrist. "Aw come on, we just got wound up!"

Wendy pried away. "Well wind down, silly boy. Ariel and Rapunzel - "

Peter lunged again. Grabbing her skirt, he started to sing. " _I heat up - I can't cool down_ -!"

"Oh goodness, Peter - "

"- _You got me spinnin' - Round and 'round!"_

"Peter!" Wendy glanced embarrassingly at Jim. "Peter not in front of - "

" _Abra-abra-cadabra_ -" Half singing - half laughing, Peter pulled. " _I want to reach out and grab ya!_ _Abra-abra- ca -_ WAIT. WAIT a SEC!"

Peter felt through her skirt. Elated, he looked up. "Are you wearing a garter?"

Wendy turned redder than the pepperoni. "Peter - "

"You _are_!" Peter glowed as if he were the luckiest man in the world. "You are wearing a _garter_!"

Jim advanced. "Pan. Let her go."

"What is this, lace?" Ignoring Jim, Peter frisked Wendy's leg. "Ha ha! This has got to be the sexiest thing I have ever - "

"Oh my freaking - " With astounding strength, Jim detached Wendy from Peter. Gruffly, he directed Wendy into the crowed. "Ariel. That way. Go."

Pink faced, Wendy obeyed. Halfway she peeked back. Peter blew her a kiss. Unable to stop smiling, Wendy disappeared inside Rapunzel's embrace.

Dreamily, Peter sighed. _A garter. God bless pixiepunk fashion. Basically, he just won the lottery._

Uprighting himself, Peter reached for the pizza cutter. Then he paused.

Jim was staring. Correction, Jim was death-glaring.

Smugly, Peter rolled the pizza cutter against his cheek.

"Hit a nerve, did I?"

Jim literally growled. "Grow the fuck up."

 _Ooooo. Best friend to the rescue._ Gleaming, Peter licked his lips. _This was going to be good._

... ... ...

* * *

 **...**

 **Big4girl poem:**

 _ **Oh yeah, oh yeah. She's still mine, I can't believe it's been all this time and she still loves me.**_

 _ **I really can't believe, she still loves me! I love her, I love my Wendy.**_

 **...**

* * *

 **sultal's note: The song that Peter sings, "Abracadabra" by Steve Miller Band. I think the whole song is EXTREMELY appropriate for Peter's 6 year itch. Plus good 80s music... you really can't go wrong.**


	36. Chapter 36: The Dreamcatcher Deal

**Chapter 36: The Dreamcatcher Deal**

Peter sliced himself an extra-large piece of _everything-including-M &Ms-kiwi-and-bacon_ pizza. Leisurely, he popped an M&M.

"Got something to say, Rat Tail? Or was that glamorous profanity just chit chat?"

Jim sat. He looked like someone had injected him with arsenic.

"What the Hell was that?"

"What the Hell was what?"

"Wendy is not a toy." Jim glowered disgustedly as Peter ate. "You can't keep _touching_ her like that."

Peter stretched cheese from his pizza. Criminally, he grinned. "How do you want me to touch her?"

Jim breathed fire. "I am _warning_ you…"

Hmm. I dunno." Peter wiped pizza grease on his jeans. "Still a little vague. Maybe you could demo on Ariel. But if you're not man enough, I bet Eric would."

Peter had expected Jim's retaliation (in fact he'd prayed for it), but he hadn't expected Jim to react so fierce. Shoving the table, Jim seized Peter's collar and wrenched, punching his knuckles into Peter's throat. Had Peter not immediately whipped his dagger behind Jim's ear, one of them would have died: and it was not Jim.

Their outburst had been obscured by the noisy restaurant, but several people were noticing the boys' aggressive stance. Several more were noticing Peter's dagger.

"Easy Rat Tail." Peter angled his dagger against Jim's neck. He looked meaningfully to the side. "Public place, remember? Don't want to upset the girls."

Jim squeezed. He lifted, knuckles cutting into Peter's jaw. For a second he held, prepared to eat Peter alive.

Then peripherally Jim glimpsed Ariel. Across the room, he heard Wendy laugh.

Slowly, Jim released. He sat, but monsters were crawling under his skin.

"Someday…" Jim snarled. "Wen's going to realize what an asshole you are."

Peter flipped his dagger. Catching it by the point, he flipped it again. "She already knows. And it's too late for her to backtrack now. We promised – and when I make a promise it sticks. Like bubble gum."

Jim frowned. _Promise? Excuse you WTF?_ Too angry to ask Peter for specification, but confident Wendy would explain later, Jim changed the subject. He wasn't eager, but he needed Peter's help.

"Wendy's having nightmares."

The bluntness had its desired effect.

"What?" Mid-bite, Peter paused. He lowered his pizza. "Wendy's having what?"

"Nightmares. Every night. She can't sleep. She can't eat. She vomits everything she does, wakes up with headaches. Her eyes are doing this weird black flutter thing – didn't you notice the way she looks?"

Peter raised a brow. "Yeah, she looks great."

"Look again." Jim glared. "Above the chest."

"Too time consuming." Peter pushed aside his plate, truly concerned. "How long has this been going on?"

"Don't know." Jim scanned the restaurant. He found Wendy politely engaged with Charlotte and Kuzco. It was hardly mid-afternoon, but she looked worn. "But long enough."

Peter followed Jim's gaze. He scratched his hair. "Why didn't Wendy tell _me_ about this?"

Jim half smiled. "It's a best friend thing."

"That again." Peter picked at his pizza crust. "Gross. Okay, Rat Tail. So what's your plan? You obviously have one."

"Yeah." Jim propped on his elbows. As much as he wanted to break Peter's neck, he also had to admit: Peter was quick-witted. Clever even.

"Wen thinks she's getting the nightmares because she's a shadow worker. 'Occupational hazard,' she called it. Plus, she lives with your god damn shadow, which is probably making everything worse. She sleeps maybe for one hour then wakes up screaming. She won't tell me what the dream is, but it's gotta stop."

Peter fingered his thimble necklace. "Go on."

"Wen can't stop her nightmares because she can't control her own shadow." Jim said. "So I did a little research. After King Arthur's meeting, I spoke with Chief Powhatan. According to Powhatan the best cure for a nightmare – is a dreamcatcher."

A smile snaked Peter's lips. He knew _exactly_ where this was going.

"Dreamcatcher, huh?" Cockily, Peter puffed his chest. "So Powhatan sent you to me."

Jim ground his teeth. " _Evidently_ you're the only one that can make dreamcatchers work."

"Sure am. Dreamcatchers are tricky. It's very difficult to construct a dreamcatcher that _actually_ catches nightmares. Luckily, I can."

"Okay, teach me."

"Teach you?"

"Yes, teach me how to make a dreamcatcher."

"I can't just _teach_ you, stupid!" Amused, Peter chopped his dagger across the pizza. "Dreamcatchers are extremely symbolic – you've got the hoop, the spiraled webbing, beads, and feathers. Every part of the dreamcatcher has to symbolize the dreamer, so it can connect with the sleeping person – in this case Wendy."

"Plus – " Peter lifted a hand, silencing Jim. "The dreamcatcher _has_ to be sprinkled with dreamsand. Dreamsand is what dreams are made of. Nightmares are attracted to dreamsand – you know, opposites attract? Dreams fly through the air, so Skyworld is the _only_ place to find dreamsand trails. _And_ – I am the _only_ guy that can collect dreamsand."

Peter wiggled his fingers. "Sticky fingertips. Major plus. So, I'm the only one that can make a dreamcatcher. And…it sounds like you are in _dire_ , _desperate_ need of my services. Huh."

Superiorly, Peter stretched. "Rat Tail, Rat Tail, Rat Tail. Can't imagine how badly this is killing your pride."

"Can you imagine how badly I want to kill you?"

Peter could. But he was unperturbed.

"I think we've stumbled upon a _very_ interesting situation." Peter rest both hands on his chest. Unhurriedly, he rolled the thimble between his thumbs. "Very interesting. Huh. Okay. Tell you what Rat Tail, I will make Wendy a dreamcatcher. But…on two conditions."

" _Two_ _conditions_?" Jim was almost speechless with incredulity. "You're seriously bargaining for Wendy's welfare?"

"Yup."

"You're sick."

"I'm Peter Pan."

"Jesus you piece of – " Struggling to remain calm, Jim consented. " _Okay_. _Whatever. Fine._ What are the conditions?"

"First: I want to give Wendy the dreamcatcher. Not you. Me."

"Whatever, as long as she gets it."

"And second…" Peter paused. He let Jim soak in the anticipation. "Second: I want to take Wendy out tonight….and I don't want you there."

"Excuse me?"

"I want to take Wendy out tonight." Peter repeated. "And I don't want you there."

Jim shook his head. "Why would I be – "

"Oh _come_ _on,_ Rat Tail. We're both guys." Peter jerked his head sideways at Wendy. "You're telling me, that if I take that pretty girl out…you _wouldn't_ chaperone?"

Jim studied Peter. Then he looked at Wendy; she was admiring Tiger Lily's engagement ring, sweetly ignorant to their discussion.

Jim turned. "Why?"

"Why what?" asked Peter.

"Why don't you want me there?" Jim demanded. "What are you going to do?"

Peter cocked his head. "Something…special."

" _What_?"

"It's a secret." Peter whispered through cupped hands. " _That's why I don't want you there_!"

"Pan – "

"Wendy's not a little girl anymore." Peter said. "She's all grown up. Think she needs best friend holding her hand? Nuh –uh. You saw her – she can't look at me without blushing. You're not the most important guy in her life. _I am._ "

"Sure…" Peter continued. "Maybe Wendy told _you_ about her nightmares. But…she's been _dreaming_ of _me_ for six years. And here I am: a dream come true and ready to play. Lucky, lucky girl."

Jim felt sick. Absolutely sick.

When he arrived in Fantasia, Jim had given Peter a chance. He did it for Wendy's sake; maybe Peter had matured. But here Peter was: playing with her, exploiting her loneliness. And Wendy…

Jim's stomach turned. He thought of Wendy, age fifteen, so excited for her first date with Peter. He thought of Wendy yesterday, aching because Peter hadn't called. He thought of Wendy this morning, scared to death that she didn't look pretty…lowering her corset so Peter would…

 _Holy shit._

"You scumbag." Jim breathed. "You _scumbag_. You – "

"Girls are coming." Peter extended an open hand. Across the restaurant, Ariel and Wendy were smiling in their direction. "We have a deal? Yes or no?"

"No. No deal."

"Come on. What – you don't want her to be happy?"

"I don't want her with you."

"You like her to have nightmares?"

"You pathetic piece of – "

"You like to hear her cry?"

"Pan – "

"It's either a deal – " Peter thrust his open hand. "—or no dreamcatcher."

Ariel and Wendy were three steps away. As Wendy laughed, Jim remembered her screaming in the middle of the night, sobbing into his arms, afraid to go back to sleep…

"Fine!" Jim seized Peter's hand. "Just make the damn dreamcatcher! But I _swear_ to you Pan – " He dug his fingernails. "If you hurt her – "

"What are you silly boys doing?"

Jim and Peter separated. As Ariel bounced next to Jim, Peter moved aside for Wendy.

"Nothing." Peter nuzzled Wendy's cheek. He grinned maliciously at Jim. "Guy stuff. You girls have fun?"

Ariel rattled her trident like a bell. Attacking the pizza, she motioned for Wendy to explain.

"We saw everyone!" Wendy bubbled, accepting a pizza slice from Ariel. "Everyone! Did you know that Rapunzel and Flynn are married with a baby on the way? Rapunzel just found out, but she and Flynn have already picked out names! _Aelius_ for a boy – I think Flynn chose that one, it means ' _sun'_ – and _Dawn_ for a girl! I can't believe it, everyone is so grown up and – Jim?"

Mid-sentence, Wendy did a double take. Still twinkling with excitement, she smiled at Jim.

"Jim what's wrong?"

Jim didn't answer. He was staring at Wendy as if he'd just drowned a puppy. Beneath the table he was clutching Ariel's hand – and trembling.

"Jim?" Wendy repeated, smile fading. "Jim are you all right?"

"He's fine!" Peter donned his Indian headdress. He eyed Jim sharply through the feathers. "Bad slice of pizza – _right_ Rat Tail?"

Jim was hoarse. "Yeah."

"That's right." Peter agreed. Standing on the seat he hopped into the air. "Allllllll right peeps! I'm outtie! See you later!"

Wendy blinked as Peter departed. Surprised, she turned to Ariel and Jim.

"Where is he – "

"Whoops!" Peter reappeared. Hovering upside-down he seized Wendy's jaw. "Almost forgot."

Peter pulled. Nearly lifting Wendy from her seat, he kissed her. Long. Longer. Lonnnnnnnnger.

Astonished, Ariel beamed. Open-mouthed, she kept time on her hand.

Jim rolled his eyes. "For crying out loud. Wen! Breath!"

Still kissing, Peter batted at Jim. He held Wendy a moment more. Then with a dramatized _pop_ , Peter withdrew, smiled, and flew out the door.

Wendy reemerged, brilliant red. Practically glistening she turned calmly to the table, trying not to look overjoyed. She glanced up. Jim was glaring. Wendy bit her lip, forcing down a smile. She glanced again. Ariel was on the verge of exploding and her thrill was _contagious_. Excitement overflowing, Wendy covered her mouth, turned apologetically from Jim – "

"Okay fine!" Jim stormed from the booth. "Go ahead and giggle!"

Wendy and Ariel made eye contact.

And then they burst.

 _WOW!_ Ariel mouthed. Picking a handful of pepperoni, she threw it like confetti. _WOW! WOW! WOW!_

"I know!" Wendy buried her head. Her cheeks were burning. Her lips felt glittery. "Oh this is not me. This is so not me! Jim is so upset! But Peter is so – so incredibly, extremely, and unbelievably …Oh Ariel this is _so very much_ not me!"

Ariel grabbed a napkin. Unpocketing a purple marker (Aquata had bought her a rainbow set for communicating), she started to write.

 **OMG WENDY OMG! HOLY HOT TAMALE! Gosh -** **I knew u 2 had a little crush – but WOW! It's like 6 years sped things up !A LOT! Like a LOT LOT!**

A new line. **Is Peter a good kisser?**

Wendy nodded, a little breathless. "Very."

 **Does he EVER ask?**

"Generally no. But he should."

 **Upper lip or lower?**

"De...pends?"

 **Tongue?**

"Well..."

 **AHHHHHHH! ATTA GIRL!**

"Oh dear."

Suddenly Ariel danced in her seat. Slapping the napkin, she scribbled a new line.

 **OMG – WENDY! Are you guys...?**

Wendy tilted her head, reading. "Are we?"

Goofily, Ariel circled her hand, trying to trigger Wendy's understanding. Returning to the napkin she made three hard DOT DOT DOTs on the ellipsis.

"Um?" Wendy asked unsurely. "Are we…?"

Ariel gave Wendy a _COME ON GIRL_ look. Exasperated she draped over the table. Grinning evilly, she crossed two fingers, twisted them back and forth, and pointed to Wendy's pelvis.

Wendy's eyes widened. "Oh! No! Oh goodness _no_ we're not – "

Grabbing Ariel's napkin, Wendy crumpled it under the table. "Ariel no, no, no! No! We're _not_. Absolutely not. Completely not. Definitely not. Oh no. We're not."

Ariel silently laughed. _Sorry!_

"Oh goodness." Wendy shred the napkin over her skirt. "Don't even _mention_ that to Jim. He's cross enough already."

Ariel flattened another napkin.

 **Yeah.** She wrote. **Don't worry about Jim. He's Mr. Grouchy Gills today! :P I guess he's just extra cranky about 2nite.**

Wendy read. "What happening tonight?"

Ariel scrunched her nose.

 **Daddy invited Jim to dinner. With the whole fam.**

Wendy read the sentence twice. "Your _whole_ family?"

Ariel sighed. **WHOLE family.**

"Oh my..." Wendy watched as Jim sulked back. "Poor Jim."

* * *

 **...**

 **Big4girl poem:**

 _ **The dreamcatcher deal, that's what I'm here for, and pan had better get it or he'll hit the floor. As much as I want her to be happy, I can't possibly like it, pan's just so crappy. Mischievous and a pain in the neck, he's not right for her and I'm a train wreck. I'm pissed and a hot headed freak, but what will her father think?**_

 **...**


	37. Chapter 37: The Outlaw and Vigilante

**Chapter 37: The Outlaw and Vigilante**

Robin Hood and Merida were very sensitive about definitions. Specifically, two definitions:

(1) Outlaw (n): a fox who has broken the law, and is therefore declared outside of legal protection. Tagline: _You get what you pay for._

Verses,

(2) Vigilante (n): a person who takes the law into her own hands without legal authority. Tagline: _Better to ask for forgiveness than permission._

Robin was the outlaw, Merida was the vigilante, and together they dominated organized crime.

They were also employed by King Arthur.

It was confusing and awesome at the same time.

When they graduated from _Fantasia School for the Magically Skewed_ , Merida and Robin had suddenly realized they had ZERO vocational skills. They also did not care to _obtain_ vocational skills (especially if it involved paying tuition to a stuffy university).

It was a predicament. So, Merida and Robin had tackled their problem the best way possible: they got drunk. Hey, it was a Friday night _and_ they had just graduated – the idea seemed flawless at the time.

So, after a round of "Skrumps!" Merida and Robin put their heads together. And when the air started to taste like _Guinness_ , Merida and Robin suddenly (!) came to a conclusion.

Their Conclusion:

 _Really, all they were good at was archery. And all they really wanted to do…was archery._

Hmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm.

Ponderous.

They shared another Guinness, brainstormed, and suddenly (!) the solution hit.

Their Solution:

 _Superheroes! They were destined to be superheroes! They were destined to follow in the footsteps of Katniss Everdeen, Legolas Greenleaf, Hawkeye, and Green Arrow! They were destined to become bad-ass-BOW-AND-ARROW-yielding SUPERHEROES! Huzzah! Drinks all around to fictional archers!_

(Again – Friday night – just graduated – little tipsy – the idea seemed flawless).

But their idea _was_ flawed. Actually there were several flaws.

First, Fantasia was pretty darn peaceful. Crime had been eradicated in the Battle to Take Fantasia, and King Arthur was annoyingly good at maintaining peace. Consequently, superhero demand was at an all-time low. That was Flaw Number One.

Flaw Number Two were the guardians. Even if Fantasia _was_ threatened, King Arthur would call upon Jim Hawkins, Wendy Darling, Ariel Triton, and Peter Pan for protection. Peter could fly, Ariel had a trident, Wendy exorcised people, and Jim was just a freaking animal. Merida and Robin felt a _little_ outshined. Just a skosh.

 _Alak. Alas_. All seemed loss. Merida and Robin purchased fifty pounds of chocolate and prepared to suffer mild depression.

Then, they learned about The Otherland.

And all their problems were solved.

The Otherland _desperately_ needed superheroes. Death was considered a luxury; those that lived were starved, molested, tortured, hunted, and cursed. True, children were 'protected' by four magical guardians, but most children only survived long enough to watch their parents die.

It was disgusting. It was disastrous. And it was dangerous.

Merida and Robin jumped right in.

Robin was the outlaw: he stole from the rich and gave to the poor. Merida was the vigilante: she avenged battered woman and neutered molesters. Archangels with carbon fiber arrows and compound bows, Merida and Robin were unforgiving to the ruthless.

They were also wanted: dead or alive. (But preferably dead).

Three times they had been captured by Otherland tyrants: once by King Haggard, once by Queen Uberta, once by Chief Stoick. Twice, Merida and Robin escaped.

But the third time, they did not. Chief Stoick captured them without hope of escape. Vikings were a powerhouse, and they did not appreciate two Fantasians sniffing around their island. So, Merida and Robin were sentenced to life imprisonment.

Once again, Merida and Robin prepared to suffer mild depression.

However they were saved. Out of the blue, King Arthur accepted full responsibility for Merida and Robin's misdemeanors. For the first time in _ten thousand_ _years_ , negotiations between Fantasia and the Otherland were held. King Arthur demanded (yes _demanded_ ) that Chief Stoick meet him at The Great Wall.

The Great Wall was a _'great wall'_ that separated Fantasia from the Otherland. It had one purpose: defense. Essentially, the Great Wall kept the bad guys out.

However, the Great Wall contained an ancient opening. This doorway was guarded by Grandmother Willow, a tree spirit with roots stretching westward into Fantasia and eastward into the Otherland. It was there that King Arthur met with Chief Stoick to bargain for Merida and Robin.

King Arthur had only been 16. Needless to say, the Vikings were thrown a little bit of a loop.

In the end, Merida and Robin survived. An enormous ransom was paid. Arthur and Stoick almost got into a fist fight. Fantasians turned left. Vikings turned right. And everybody went home.

Except for Merida and Robin; they went straight to jail. _Do not pass Go. Do not collect 200 dollars. Park your law breaking butts in jail._

Bummer. Again, Merida and Robin prepared to suffer mild depression.

But King Arthur surprised them. He granted them full pardon; unlocked the prison doors; dropped them off at the Otherland; and said ' _Keep up the good work. Report back to me in 6 months_.'

Thus was born a beautiful friendship. Merida and Robin operated secretly for King Arthur. They spied on the Otherland using tactics that Agent Bubble's _legitimate_ forces could not.

King Arthur's idea was unorthodox, but remarkably effective. With Flynn (the royal thief), Robin (the royal outlaw), and Merida (the royal vigilante), he gained information from the deepest, darkness places.

But most importantly, Robin and Merida were saving innocent lives. For that, King Arthur turned a blind eye. Merida and Robin were instructed to _'do no harm.'_ Other than that, they were left to their own jurisdictions.

Life was good.

Until one night…

"Ha! Merida! Look what Flynn texted me!"

Merida turned. She and Robin were perched atop the Great Wall, patrolling the perimeter for suspicious activity. Merida herself was hunched like a vulture, rambunctious red hair hanging over the 100 foot drop.

"Flynn?" Merida rotated on a heel. She smiled as Robin bounced nimbly over the stone parapet. "It's either something about Rapunzel, his manhood, or a cheeseburger."

"Nay, nay." Robin tossed the cellphone. The screen glowed in the darkness. "Have a read. The guardians are back."

Balance perfectly maintained, Merida caught the phone. Tapping the screen, she read.

 **PAN THE MAN IS BACK BABY! WYWH! TITHDOMFL :DDDDDDDDDDDD**

"Pan the man is back baby….wish you were here..." Merida squint. "T-I-T-H-D-O-M-F-L? What the loch-ness monster does that mean?"

"This is the happiest day of my freaking life."

"Ah. Got it."

"He's got a little bit of a BROmance romance."

"Aye. Clearly." Merida returned the cellphone. "Then that means King Arthur called. I wonder why?"

Robin joined her. He motioned with an arrow. "Do you think it could be that?"

Merida already knew what Robin was pointing at. She didn't have to look, but she did. Distantly, the Otherland's southeastern horizon was burning. A fiery aurora needled into the sky; and if Merida concentrated she could see dragons coiling through the flames.

"Vikings." Robin shuddered. His tail twitched back and forth. "Vikings and their dragons. Remember Stoick? Nasty chap?"

"Aye." Merida spit. She smiled as her saliva sailed over the treetops. "His bark was bigger than his bite, though. What is that pillar of fire do ye think? It's like all the dragons are amassing."

Robin twist an arrow into the stone. "Could they be preparing to fight?"

Merida studied the fiery horizon.

"Maybe yes. Maybe no." she decided. "But I dinnae think we should just sit here gabbin like a bunch o' doobers. We either need to tell King Arthur…or check it out."

Robin grinned toothily. "Why not both?"

Suddenly, a translucent Will o' the Wisp blinked from Merida's pocket. The Will o' the Wisp was Merida's gift from the Wishing Star; it helped guide her through life's fork-roads. Agreeing with Robin, the fee zipped to the left and right of the Great Wall.

Merida hiked her quiver. "You text Flynn?"

"You get the amo?"

"Secret handshake – ?"

Robin raised his paws.

"Hit me baby! Secret handshake! Go! Knock, knock, clap, clap, clap, under, over, elbow-elbow, wrist-wrist, with a twist, bang your hips! ANNNNNND make it rain!"

They jived. The secret handshake ended with a butt slap.

"Ready?"

"Ready!"

And off they went. But they did not get far. Because three steps into the Otherland wild –

-they found a Viking. The Viking was young, alone, and _unarmed_.

 _Yay._

"A Viking without a dragon." Delightedly, Robin notched an arrow. As Merida circled left, Robin circled right. "Well that's almost indecent."

"Ohhhhh boy." The Viking kneaded his forehead. A welt reopened over his eye. "I am not in the mood for this."

Merida frowned. Sidestepping, she cut inward for a closer investigation. The Viking was badly injured. His lip was puffy, his head was bruised, dried blood smeared his face, and he limped over a broken peg leg.

Merida made eye contact with Robin. Astutely, Robin nodded. Bowstring held taut, Robin slackened his steps.

"You're wounded."

"Good one."

"Can we help?"

"Can you _help_?"

"We'll tie you up of course." Robin assured congenially. "You're still a Viking and therefore a threat. But we _can't_ let you waddle around like a one-legged duck! Robin and Merida at your services! We are here to avenge crime and support the needy: courtesy of Fantasia."

Suddenly the Viking growled "Fantasia?! Fantasia?! _Murderers_!"

Robin paused. "I am politely confused?"

"And a wee bit offended." Merida aimed her arrow. "What d'ya mean? Murderers?"

The Viking wiped his bleeding welt. "You killed our king!"

"We killed what?"

"Our king!" The Viking shouted. "The king of the Otherland! Fantasians killed him! He – "

"From our understanding." Robin interjected. "Death would not have a large impact on your 'king's' rule."

Savagely, the Viking lunged. Robin stumbled, surprised. The Viking's injuries made him stagger, but he attacked Robin like a fire breathing dragon.

"The King was a good man! You don't know – _no one knows_ – no one but _me_! The King sacrificed his kingdom to save his lady, and he waited 100 years! He waited 100 years to find her and reclaim his magical sword! And he would have risen back to power but Fantasians killed him! Stabbed him! Through the heart like animals – "

Merida jumped. She swung her bow across the Viking's neck. He gagged as she choked him against the shaft.

"Ye've been waitin' a long time te vent!" Merida yanked, forcing the Viking still. "But we don't know what yer talking about! Fantasia didn't kill yer king! King Arthur doesn't kill for play!"

"Unlike some." Robin said, his eyes reflecting moonlight. "Vikings for instance."

The Viking bucked viciously.

"The King said ' _Fantasia_ ' before he died! He said ' _Fantasia'_ and _then he DIED_! He'll never see his lady again! And he loved her! I was supposed to protect him – but I – I – "

The Viking sagged in Merida's arms. Uncontrollably, he wept.

"He's dead…" The Viking breathed in tears. "The King is dead. And I…I couldn't…he's dead."

Robin and Merida were stunned. They glanced at each other, a little horrified. _Vikings don't cry. Vikings don't feel remorse. Vikings eat roadkill and wear funny horned helmets_.

Robin lowered his bow. Grimly he pressed an arrow tip under the Viking's chin, lifting his gaze.

"What is your name?" Robin asked.

"….Hiccup."

"All right, Hiccup." Robin angled the arrowhead. He spoke calmly. "You accuse Fantasia of murder. And to the southeast, your kin are preparing for war."

Hiccup started. "They're what? Why?"

"You tell us."

"I…" Hiccup's eyes darted down then up. "I don't know."

Robin peered. He sniffed, as if trying to smell a lie.

"Let's take him to Fantasia." Robin finally decided, shouldering his bow. "Maybe he'll tell King Arthur."

"What? Fantasia? Wait no! No!" Hiccup struggled. "I have to get home! I have to get to Berk. My dad said that if The King didn't come back to power he'd – "

"I'll text Flynn." Robin and Merida dragged Hiccup to the Great Wall. "We need to warn him that Vikings are amassing, and that we have a captive. Flynn will deliver the message directly to King Arthur –"

Hiccup thrashed. "Let me go!"

"We're not going te hurt ye." Merida insisted, twisting her bow into Hiccup's jaw. "We just have te ask questions te figure out what's going on – "

"You _have_ to let me go!"

"Robin, tie his ankles. Blindfold him Bind his wrists."

"Roger. Hold still Hiccup – " Robin covered Hiccup's eyes. "This won't hurt."

BANG.

The ground detonated beneath their feet. As Merida and Robin were flung from Hiccup, plasma flames ripped the air and shattered the earth.

* * *

 **...**

 **Big4girl poem:**

 _ **An Outlaw and Outlaw, indeed I am, but hatching up schemes is my master plan. With my Vigilante at my side, there is no horizon her can't ride! We can chase the wind, touch the sky! We can soar like eagles together we fly. Partners in crime, we pass the time. Together we stand, hand in hand, but now we get in the mix of something amiss. The Otherland king dead, the viking said. We can't believe our ears as we watch him stumble and shake from his own fears. Merida the Vigilante and Robin the outlaw, we only stop when King Arthur calls.**_

 **...**


	38. Chapter 38: A Dragon's Tears

**Chapter 38: A Dragon's Tears**

Have you ever heard a dragon cry? Someday I hope you do. Because of all the beasts in all the world, a dragon crying is the softest sound, second only to angels with broken wings.

Hiccup raised his head. Blood rolled like tears between his eyes.

"….Toothless?"

A black outline slunk from the darkness. Two green eyes filled with tears.

Toothless whimpered for his best friend.

Hiccup pushed upright. He slipped, falling over his splintered peg leg. "Toothless! Toothless!"

Blind with happiness, Hiccup crumpled into his dragon.

"Bud!"

That night the stars shone a little brighter. As Hiccup laughed, Toothless cuddled him like an otter, and the two friends rejoiced for the second chance they'd been given.

"C'mon Toothless." Hiccup mounted. The dragon's harness apparatus had been destroyed in Avalon. His tail fin prosthetic could not be operated, so Toothless could not fly. So they were forced to travel on foot but it didn't matter – they were together.

"Something's up in Berk, Bud. Dad might be thinking of war, so we gotta stop him. And then…we avenge The King."

Toothless whinnied. Faster than liquid fire, he ran into the wild.

Hiccup hugged Toothless. Fingers in the saddle he happily sighed.

Then, he felt something crinkly. As Toothless raced, Hiccup unfastened a paper letter from the dragon's saddle. Swaying with Toothless's momentum, he read.

"Toothless?" Hiccup finally asked. "Who's Wendy?"

* * *

 **...**

 **Big4girl poem:**

 _ **Don't cry dear dragon, listen to me! Its Hiccup your friend can't you see? We're here together so don't you cry, because the tears of a dragon are hardest to dry.**_

 **...**


	39. Chapter 39: Get Out of the Bathroom

**Chapter 39: Get Out of the Bathroom**

"Ariel! Where are my jeans?"

Ariel groaned. The advantage of losing her voice was that she could gripe about her sisters without the drama. The disadvantage was that they couldn't hear her comebacks, so they didn't shut up.

"Arrrrrriel!" Arista pound the bathroom door. "Ariel! Come on! Get out of the bathroom! My skinny jeans are missing and no one was home but you! I'm going to tell Daddy! Where are my jeans?"

"Better hurry up Ariel." Andrina grumbled over Arista. "Grade A emergency. It's not like Arista has thirty other pairs of skinny jeans she can wear."

"Shut up Andrina!"

"Brat."

"Witch!"

"Spoiled."

"Bitch!"

Ariel rolled her eyes. Somethings never changed. They still stole each other's clothes; they still fought like cats; and she still got caught. It didn't matter that Ariel was a guardian; she was still Baby Sister - the lowest member on the Triton totem pole.

Clipping her last earring, Ariel snatched her trident and unlocked the bathroom door (there were three locks and it was very necessary. The morning stampede was deadly). Heels clicking, she pranced into the bedroom.

"Yeeeowza!" Andrina said. Aquata whistled. Alana squealed. "Ariel! You look soooo hot!"

Ariel grinned. Inwardly, she agreed. She'd just spent a fortune on a new outfit and six hours in the bathroom - she better look hot. True, ' _hot'_ was probably not appropriate for a family dinner party, but Ariel was unconcerned. After all, Jim was coming to dinner: Ariel wanted his rattail to unravel when he saw her.

So the outfit was important. She'd spent all day preparing.

Following lunch, Ariel had dragged Wendy shopping. Jim was banned from the excursion because (1) Ariel wanted to 'hang' and (2) Ariel wanted to surprise Jim with a new dress.

After scrounging the mall, they found the perfect one: it was a violet dress with an asymmetrical top (bare shoulder on the right and droopy sleeve on the left). The skirt was mini so Ariel could show off her legs, and just tight enough to send Jim into temporary shock.

Next came the accessories. And to Ariel's pleasant surprise, Wendy was very good at accessorizing. Once convinced that Ariel wanted to break the bank, Wendy selected gold stilettos, gleaming seashell earrings, pearl studs for second piercings, and an assortment of golden pearl bracelets. _No necklace_ Wendy had advised _Too busy_.

Ariel's outfit was _perfect_. All she had to do was wear her down so Jim could play with it, and _voila_! Magical night with the handsomest boy in town! Nothing could go wrong!

The only upsetting part of the day had been Wendy. While she was a natural accessorizer, Wendy was a terrible shopper. _She just looked! Noting else! She just looked!_

Ariel had been astounded. _That's so boring!_ _Shopping is not a spectator sport! You paw, you indulge, you ooo, you aww, you risk, you spend, you have fun!_

Ariel urged Wendy to partake. She tried everything but raiding Wendy's dressing room (one time she did, just for kicks). Wendy had acquiesced, but in the end she couldn't rationalize purchasing an _entire_ new wardrobe for three days in Fantasia. Plus she didn't have a credit card. Ariel had three.

So, Ariel took Wendy shopping at the next best place: Arista's closet. Arista had WAY too many clothes. She never wore the same outfit twice. Literally. So, since Arista and Wendy wore the same shoe size, Ariel decided that Arista could stomach generosity for once in her life.

"Yeah nice dress." Arista popped a hip. "Like maybe I could _steal_ it sometime! Ariel where are my skinny jeans?"

Ariel took a whiteboard from her vanity. In purple marker she wrote:

 **Alana said you never wear them anymore.**

Alana shirked from Arista. Conveniently, she ducked into the bathroom. The door locked: three times.

Arista swiveled her head. Her red earrings jingled.

"Ummm it doesn't _matter_ if I wear them or not! They're mine! Where are they?"

Ariel tapped the marker before responding.

 **Gave them to a friend. She needed normal clothes.**

"Normal clothes?" Arista said, puzzled. "What do you mean normal - oh my god. _Ariel_ , do you mean Wendy?"

Ariel snapped two fingers over her ear. She gave her best _'_ duh' look.

 _Nailed it._

"Nooo." Arista whined, attacking her closet. "Oh my god what did you give her? Anything good? Skinny jeans - turquoise summer dress - knit sweater-oh my GAAAHD where is my orange tube top? Ariel you didn't give her my tube top did you?"

"As if her boobs could hold it." Andrina muttered. "Probably slide right down. Ouch! Ariel!"

Andrina jumped. Ariel had jabbed her trident into the carpet, zapping Andrina with electric static.

"Calm down Ariel!" Andrina hopped as Ariel fired again. "It was a joke! True. But still a joke. Calm the F down!"

"Oh stop picking on Ariel!" said Aquata. "She's just nervous about toniiiiight! Boyfriend is coming!"

"Which one?" Arista mumbled, organizing her halter tops by sparkliness. "White Trash or Captain Dreamy Pants?"

Ariel frowned. She rapped her trident. _What?_

"Oh you didn't know?" Arista winked at Andrina. "That's hilarious. Daddy invited Eric."

Ariel gagged. Her trident hit the floor.

 _Eric is coming?_

* * *

... ... ...

* * *

Wendy _never_ wanted to go back! As far as she was concerned the Underworld could go to _(insert a word Jim would use_ )!

What a wonderful day. Every event following King Arthur's meeting far outweighed Tinkerbell's lewd comments. Lunch was delicious (obviously, Tony was a master chef), but not as delicious as Peter's departing kiss. Wendy had enjoyed shopping with Ariel, and could not _wait_ to try on Arista's hand-me-down clothes. To wear jeans again: it had been SO long.

Following shopping, Wendy had surprised John with a visit during his mid-afternoon tea. Tigerlily had joined with her wedding scrapbook for Wendy to browse. Afterwards, Wendy treated Michael and Lilo to putt-putt golf (Wendy and Shadow vs Michael and Lilo - Stitch helped Lilo cheat), and ice cream for the winning champions (Michael and Lilo - again, Stitch cheated).

Leaving Michael with Lilo, Wendy raced home. She wanted to catch Jim before he left for the Triton's. Although he'd never admit it, Wendy was sure Jim was nervous. A pep talk was in order.

For the remainder of the night, Wendy planned to spend with Sarah. They would talk, watch movies, eat popcorn, and Wendy was NOT going to have nightmares. Not tonight. She refused.

"Well there's my littlest guardian." Sarah greeted Wendy at the kitchen table. "You've had a full day. How was King Arthur's meeting?"

"Eventful." Wendy sat. She smiled over Arista's neatly stacked clothes. "King Arthur gave us three days, all to ourselves. How was work?"

"Short." admitted Sarah. "Especially after King Arthur's _'take-the-day-off'_ speech."

"Oh yes, I forgot. Does he do that often?"

"No. But he loves special occasions. And he loves to praise his subjects. Very sweet, that boy. Very decent. Very fair. Honey are you hungry?"

"Not right now, thank you. I actually wanted to see Jim before Ariel's dinner party - did he tell you?"

Sarah nodded. Her voice flattened. "Yes. Interesting that Admiral Triton invited him."

"Yes." Wendy agreed. "But I think it's a good sign. Jim did beautifully at the meeting today - Admiral Triton was there, so he must have been impressed. Don't you think so?"

Sarah hummed dubiously. "We'll see. I know they've clashed before, so Jim needs to be on his best behavior. Jim's upstairs now, changing. He's grown so much, I had to buy him new clothes. Slacks, shirt, belt, loafers...he even wanted a tie."

"No. A tie? Jim?"

"He must like this girl."

"Oh that's right." Wendy suddenly realized. "Sarah you haven't met Ariel properly, have you? Oh she's lovely! Absolutely lovely!"

"Well...anyone that can force Jim into a button down and tie..." Sarah sniffed sardonically. "Well, she must be pretty spectacular. To tell you the truth I was a little at a lost. I've never had to buy Jim _anything_ like that before. Never. I had no idea men had their own warehouses. Sinbad never - "

Sarah stopped. She looked surprised, as if the comment had snuck up involuntary.

Wendy bit her lip. Politely, she looked down.

"Anyway..." Sarah continued, a little darkly. "Anyway. That was that. Yesss. Oh honey - a package came for you."

Wendy laughed. "A what? I have mail? Here? To this address? Oh dear...it's not Underworld paperwork is it? I asked Doc for an update, but I hardly expected paperwork."

"Well I don't know," Sarah said. "But I _don't_ think its paperwork! It looked more like a present."

To Wendy's intrigue, Sarah took Arista's clothes. "I run these through the wash. The package is upstairs in your room. Go have a look."

Curiously Wendy departed. Vaguely noticing the sound of an electric razor inside the bathroom, she found the mysterious package on her bed. It was flat, white, simply addressed ( _Wendy_ ), and tied with a thin ribbon.

"That's odd... Wendy unfastened the ribbon. "Who would - _oh_."

Wendy's hand flew to her mouth. The other followed.

Inside the package was a dress. A _gorgeous_ dress that Wendy was afraid to touch, but handled like gold when she plucked up the nerve.

The dress was sky blue and tea-lengthed, with a square neckline and little square sleeves. The bodice was form fitting to the waist, but flared at the skirt. While it was still sky blue, the skirt fabric was sheer to purple and magenta layers below. The colors blended beautifully - like a sunset.

Sunset. Sky blue. Skyworld.

Peter.

Wendy exhaled. Speechless she looked to the package. She found a note. Rather, she found an invitation -cardstock, floral boarder, silver lettering.

 ** _~On This Day, Your Engagement Anniversary~_**

Below the header was a handwritten message. **_  
_**

**To Miss Wendy Moria Angela Darling,**

 **You are cordially invited to celebrate the 6th year engagement anniversary of Peter and Wendy.**

 **When: Today, 6 pm, sharp**

 **Where: The beach, follow the Christmas lights**

 **Attire: Formal (see attached package)**

 **p.s. Shoes are not allowed.**

 **p.p.s. Leave your shoes at home!**

 **p.p.p.s. NO SHOES!**

 **p.p.p.p.s. TAKE THEM OFF!**

 **Impatiently Yours,**

 **Peter**

Wendy stared.

Then, heart banging like a firecracker, she sprinted to the bathroom. She was going on her second date with Peter (to celebrate their _engagement_ no less)! And she only had one hour to prepare!

Frantically Wendy knocked on the bathroom door.

The electric razor stopped. "In a sec."

"Jim? Oh, I'm sorry."

"Wen that you?

"Yes." Wendy bounced on her heels. "Will you be long?"

"Shaving."

"Shaving? I thought you were growing it out - "

"I'm _shaving_."

Wendy stepped was in _not_ in a good mood.

"Sorry." Wendy edged away. "Take your time. Sarah? Sarah!"

Backtracking down the hallway, Wendy met Sarah on the stairs. Clock ticking inside her head, she desperately asked. "Sarah how do I make my hair shinny if I don't have time to shower?"

Sarah smiled. Jim was brooding. Wendy was panicked. Both were nervous. They were so cute.

"Spritz it under the sink." Sarah calmly said. She fought a laugh as Wendy nodded, hanging on her every word. "Add a little bit of mousse, then brush. Your hair is curly so try a low bun. The ringlets will look nice."

"Spritz - mousse - brush - bun. Got it." Wendy raced upstairs. Halfway she turned and gave Sarah a hug. "Thank you!"

The bathroom was empty when Wendy returned. Jim had burrowed secretively into his room, but the scent of cologne marked his presence.

"Goodness." Wendy wafted the bathroom before shutting the door. The cologne was nonetheless robust. "He is nervous."

But not as nervous as she. Fingers trembling, Wendy followed Sarah's advice and wove her hair into a low bun, loose with ringlets. She twisted in her ribbon, and accented the style with a tight bow.

Racing to her bedroom, Wendy donned the sky-blue dress.

The dress was transformative. Wendy felt like a princess. She felt beautiful.

Wendy twirled in the mirror. Behind, the shadow clapped.

"All right." Shyly, Wendy left her room. She practically danced down the stairs. "Engagement anniversary. Second date."

* * *

 **...**

 **Big4girl:**

 _ **Get out of the Bathroom Jim! Something I never have the guts to say, even on my most confident days. Jim is so nervous this much I can tell, so am I and I hope everything goes swell! My stomach is turning as I spin in my room. I love Peter, our love is in bloom! Just image it! Soon, I'll be a beautiful bride, he'll be a handsome groom! Oh how our love is in bloom!**_

 **...**


	40. Chapter 40: How To Tie A Tie

**Chapter 40: How To Tie A Tie**

 _God damn freaking tie._

Jim had a rare intelligence: _logical-mathematical_. His mind was a computer that calculated simple solutions, while simultaneously thinking 'outside the box.' This made him _alarmingly_ resourceful. However, Jim was also _dangerously_ perceptive; he could x-ray people's souls and read their behaviors. Jim was a mind-reader, a mathematician, a detective, a problem solver, a strategist, a numbers wizard…

...but he could _not_ figure out how to tie a god damn freaking tie.

"Hell with it." Jim crumpled the tie on the kitchen table. Smoldering, he filled a glass of water at the sink. He drank it – one gulp. He refilled the glass and drained it – again, one gulp. Immediately Jim regretted the decision. The water stuck like a rock inside his stomach. He felt like throwing up.

Jim inhaled. Clutching the sink, he stared into the kitchen window. The dark pane mirrored his reflection.

He looked stupid.

Jim felt like he was wearing a costume: charcoal button-down shirt, black dress pants, shiny loafers, and clean-shaven face. He'd even removed his earring. _Thank god_ Wendy had taken over the bathroom, or Jim would have shaved off his rattail.

The only bearable part of his outfit were the gold cufflinks. Stoically, Jim turned a wrist. Long John Silver had made the cufflinks. One had been forged from the cyborg's golden earring, the other from Jim's.

Bleakly, Jim stared into nothing.

He had searched for Silver. He had searched for six years. Silver had escaped into the Outerworld following the Battle to Take Fantasia, and Jim had hoped to find him sailing amongst the stars. But after six years of hunting, Jim was no closer to Silver than a memory. A memory to take the helm…chart his own course…rattle the stars…

…and face the universe like a man.

Haggardly Jim sighed. He _loathed_ the idea of dinner with the Tritons; but he loved Ariel _infinitesimally_ more. It was time to man up; man up for her.

Jim closed his eyes. He pictured Ariel.

Then refilling his glass, Jim returned to the table and wrestled with his tie.

Suddenly, Wendy appeared. Unnoticing Jim, she hopped down the stairs and into the kitchen.

Jim's eyebrows rose. She was _glowing_. Literally _glowing_. Had Wendy not been the only girl in the house, Jim wouldn't have recognized her. She looked like a fairy just dropped from a cloud: sweet, excited, and innocent.

Jim studied Wendy. Suddenly he remembered.

 _I want to take Wendy out tonight…and I don't want you there._

The butterflies in Jim's stomach turned into bear claws.

 _Peter_.

Reactively, Jim made a noise. Wendy turned. She beamed.

" _Jim_?"

Happily surprised, Wendy sat at the table. "Jim! Look at you! You look so handsome, I hardly recognized you! Well, not that you don't always look handsome, I just meant that you scarcely dress up. But it's quite becoming. And I would have thought that shaving would make you look different, but it's still you under there!"

Jim only partially listened. _She's babbling._ He thought. _She's talking a million miles an hour. She's nervous. She babbles when she's nervous. Why is she this nervous?_

Peter's voice snickered inside Jim's head.

 _Something….special._

Jim stiffened. Peter wanted Wendy alone to do 's _omething….special.'_

Jim felt sick. "Wen – "

Abruptly she reached for his tie.

"Oh Jim!" Wendy giggled. "Jim there's a proper way to do this. Here, let me help, I use to fasten John's ties. This tie is nice. I like the color – silver. It matches perfectly with your shirt. Here, now just hold still."

Jim froze, in part because Wendy told him to, but also from indecision. He had bargained with Peter not to interfere, but Peter's insinuations scared Jim to death.

The facts were all there, Jim couldn't _help_ but to connect the dots. Peter knew Wendy was lonely; Wendy _did_ blush whenever she looked his way; and when Peter put his hands on her…Wendy let him.

Jim coughed. He started to sweat.

Wendy noticed. Compassionately, she adjusted his tie.

"Little nervous? About tonight?"

Jim cleared his throat. He looked away.

"Well, you shouldn't be." Wendy slid the tie under his collar. One eye closed, she gauged the loose ends. "After all, it's only a dinner party. What have you to be nervous for?"

Jim scoffed. "Admiral _Hates My Guts_ , and Family _Will Hate My Guts_."

"Well." Wendy crossed the tie's wide end. "What about Ariel _Loves You Very Much_?"

Jim grunted. "Whatever."

Wendy glanced. He hadn't used that catch-phrase in a long time. She proceeded cautiously.

"It's a little bit like jumping into a pool you can't see the bottom of, isn't it?" Dissatisfied with her progress, Wendy unknotted the tie. Soothingly, she started again. "Meeting a new family, making first impressions...it's a very new experience. You've never liked ambiguous stress. You always like to know what you're facing, so you can plan ahead."

"I have a plan."

"Oh?"

"Keep my mouth shut and my head down."

Wendy crossed the tie. " Well that's a good start. But…perhaps I can help. Mother and father use to have dinner parties. I imagine the Triton's dinner party will be similar. Let me see. It's five-thirty now, so you'll arrive at the Triton's at six o'clock, _precisely_ on time. Ariel is waiting for you on the doorstep, and she is wearing something that takes your breath away."

Wendy smiled, remembering Ariel's pursuit for 'the perfect dress.'

"Ariel thinks you look very nice," Wendy continued, weaving the tie up and under a loop. "But she decides you are overdressed. While she appreciates the gesture, she'll probably take off the tie."

"So Admiral Triton can hang me with it."

Wendy decided not to comment. Crossing the tie left to right, she looped again.

"You enter the living room, and Ariel introduces you to her family. Ariel has a large family, and most are girls, so half of them instantly fall in love with you while the other half pretend not to. And then… _Admiral Triton_ enters the room…"

Wendy pompously lowered her voice. "And he is so _verrrry_ grumpy and so _verrry_ intimidating. But, the admiral notices how proper you look and is very pleased, although he might not say so."

"Or he might serve me for dinner."

"When you _get_ to dinner," Wendy said. "Everyone will be spying on you, grading your manners. But so long as you don't slurp, you'll pass the test. _You_ will sit stock-still, but _Ariel_ will be making funny faces across the table."

"Am I sitting at the table or on the floor?" Jim asked wryly.

"You are sitting near Ariel." Wendy replied. "Though not directly. Admiral Triton does have to be a good father, after all."

"Shitty. Next?"

Wendy skimmed over Jim's language. He was nervous – swearing was allowed.

"Next…" Wendy tucked the tie under the front knot. She finished with a little tug. "Next, you come home. Ariel is bored, they are serving something horribly sweet for dessert, so Ariel slips away and you follow. The night is clear, you stargaze off Pirate's Point…and it's only ten o'clock."

Warmly, Wendy perfected Jim's tie. "See? Nothing to it. You survived, and they absolutely loved you."

Sitting back, she smiled. "Feel better?"

Jim glared.

"So where'd you get that thing?"

Wendy blinked. "Pardon?"

"The dress."

"Oh." Ecstatically, Wendy smoothed the bodice. "It's a gift from Peter. Do you like it?"

Jim stared, protective instincts screaming. Glass in hand, he icily rose.

"No."

"Thank you I – what?" Wendy stopped. Stunned, she turned in her seat. "You…really?"

Jim stood at the sink. He kept his back to Wendy, unable to look her in the eye.

"Really."

Suddenly Sarah entered. She'd been casually eavesdropping from the living room, but rose as the conversation turned bitter.

"Jim." Sarah said. " _What_ did you say?"

"She asked my opinion." Jim gripped the counter-top. His scar burned with the strain. "So I gave it. We always tell each other the truth. At least _I_ do."

"But…but what's wrong with…" Wendy touched her dress, searching for the imperfection. Her voice trembled, desperate for Jim's approval. "Do I look…bad?"

Jim closed his eyes. His conscience told him _don't._ But all Jim could see was Peter Pan...smirking evilly...touching his little sister.

"I'd change."

Wendy's eyes became fragile, watery. "But I don't have anything else. Suitable. For tonight. Peter said – "

Jim cracked.

"Well you know what Wendy." Savagely he turned. "Maybe you shouldn't go."

"Jim!" Sarah exclaimed. "Jim what has gotten - "

"Hey!" Jim snapped. "She asked and I answered! I think she should change, but whatever! She's a big girl – she doesn't have to give in just because I say so. _I'm_ not the one forcing her to something _against her will_."

Wendy stood. "What does _that_ mean?"

"It means change the dress or don't go! But either way get the Hell off my back!"

Jim knew Wendy would believe him – he was honest. But until that point, Jim _never_ fathomed how _unconditionally_ she trusted his judgement.

Wendy looked down once, forcing back tears. She blinked, and her eyes flickered black. Then her gaze lifted. Head held high, she turned towards the stairs. "Well…I'll just…tell Peter tomorrow…"

Sarah intercepted. "Oh no you don't."

Sternly, Sarah ushered Wendy out the door. "Honey you look beautiful. Go on. Stay as long as you want and have a good time."

"But - "

"No buts - go."

The door swung. Suddenly making eye contact with Wendy, Jim lunged.

"Wen don't let him – "

 _Click._ The door shut.

Sarah Hawkins rounded on her son.

" _Sit_."

* * *

 **...**

 **Big4girl poem:**

 _ **How does one tie a tie? It's quite simple you see, its like passing the time as you wait nervously. I am nervous and so are you, so why did you act this way, this way so new? I don't know why so spare me goodbye. So I say goodnight and good luck so I can say that I tried, so as I walk away, your words they will stay, stuck in my mind. So won't you be so kind? And tell me, why you almost made me cry?**_

 **...**


	41. Chapter 41: Meeting The Girlfriend

**Chapter 41: Meeting The Girlfriend**

"Sit."

"But -"

"Sit!"

"But you don't -"

"Sit!"

" _Mom_! She – "

"James PLEIADES Hawkins!" Sarah seized a chair and pointed. " _Sit_!"

Jim sat. Furiously, but he sat.

"Mom, you don't – "

"B _e quiet_ while you're at it, I did not say you could talk! Now – " Sarah practically spit nails. " _What_ was the meaning of _that_?"

Jim threw a hand at the door. "You let her go out? You don't know where's she's going or what she's going to do? Dressed like _that_? Mom she's – "

"Yes, I did! She looked lovely and it wouldn't have hurt you to say so."

"Oh my freaking –you don't underst— " Angrily Jim seized his forehead. "— _whatever_."

"Young man you are not a teenager anymore – _do not_ ' _whatever'_ me. How could you say that to Wendy? Jim that was _terrible_. You hurt her feelings."

"I wasn't trying to hurt her feelings."

"Well what were you trying to do?"

"I was trying to protect her!" Jim blurted. "She's not thinking straight – she's got no freaking idea – I was trying to keep her safe!"

Sarah crossed her arms, startled by his reaction. " _What_? Keep her safe from what?"

"Mom!" Jim leaned, fists shaking. "She's going to see Pan! Pan and I made a bet, I promised not to say anything but – but I just couldn't let her – And I think – Mom I think Pan's going to –to - "

"To...?" Suddenly, Sarah hardened. "Jim. Do I need to call the police?"

"I—" Jim thought of the dreamcatcher. He thought of Wendy, holding back tears, her night probably ruined. He thought of Peter, waiting to snatch her like an animal trap. He thought of Wendy again – and the secret she was keeping from him.

Jim raked his hair. "I don't know. It's – I don't know."

Sarah lingered. She glanced at the clock. Then gathering herself, she sighed.

"Okay Jim. Listen to me. First, Wendy is a good girl. And I trust that if she's uncomfortable, she'll come right home. But if she's _not_ back by midnight, I'll call Delbert. Captain Amelia and I will go find her. Okay?"

Jim stared at the ground. Grimly he nodded.

"Okay. Second. Jim, I am _proud_ that you are looking out for Wendy. You're a good brother. But insulting her was _wrong_. _Very wrong_. Wendy internalizes everything – you know that. I don't know what ' _bet_ ' you made with Peter, but I don't care. If you had concerns, you should have said so. Immediately. So, when Wendy comes home – you are apologizing. And you are giving her a reason why. Understood?"

Again Jim nodded.

"And third..." Sarah paused indecisively. When she spoke, she was somber. "When Wendy gets home, and _after_ you apologize...the three of us are going to have a little chat...about Ariel and Peter."

Jim frowned, perplexed. "Ariel and Peter? Why?"

"I just think," Sarah said pragmatically. "That the four of you haven't been thinking realistically – into the long run, I mean. You are guardians. Sooner or later, you will have to say goodbye. It was one thing when you were children. But since you've returned, I think things have progressed a little too far, a little too fast. I can't speak for Ariel or Peter...but I want you and Wendy to think this through."

Jim shook his head. "What do you mean think this thr –"

 _RING! RING! RING! RING! RING!_

The doorbell rang. Sarah and Jim turned. The ringing was followed by a musical number of _knock knock knock knockitty knock knocks._

"Now who could that be?" Sarah wondered. Bemused, she opened the door.

Ariel beamed on the threshold, trident in one hand and a bright orange sign in the other. The sign was decorated with stickers and written with big capital letters:

 **HELLO MRS. HAWKINS!**

 **I'M ARIEL (JIM'S GIRLFRIEND)!**

 **(sorry for the sign – I can't speak!)**

Obviously, Sarah was surprised. Behind her, Jim almost smiled. Ariel sparkled like a bombshell on their doorstep, completely unannounced and outrageously upbeat.

"Ariel." Sarah shifted, a little unnerved by Ariel's gaze. Ariel's eyes were enormous, and they followed her like spotlights. "Hello. Yes of course I remember you. I thought Jim was meeting you at your home. This is a little unexpected."

Ariel flipped her sign, clearly expecting the answer.

 **I WANTED TO SAY HELLO! WE'VE NEVER MET!**

 **ALSO – DID YOU WANT TO COME TO DINNER?**

Jim smiled. It faded as his mother responded.

"Thank you, Ariel. That's very sweet of you to ask. But John's not back from work, and I can't leave Michael alone. He's not old enough I'm afraid."

Ariel sagged, clearly disappointed. Retrieving a purple marker from her clutch, she scribbled on the sign.

 **Aw :( Too bad, I wanted you to come.**

 **HEY! Maybe some other time? You and me?**

Sarah read the message and stuttered. "Oh. Okay. I – "

Ariel hopped in a circle. Excitedly she wrote.

 **GREAT! When? Tomorrow? Next day? We only have 2 days left!**

"Well..." Calmly, Sarah drew Jim to the threshold. "We'll see. We can talk later. Thank you for coming to say hello – that was very sweet. Nice to meet you Ariel."

Ariel wrote: **SOOO nice to meet U2 Mrs. Hawkins!**

"All right. Jim." Sarah spoke firmly. "Jim I love you – we'll finish talking when you get home."

Jim nodded. Ariel glanced shrewdly between them as he answered. "Kay."

"Okay. Have a nice time kids. Ariel –"

Ariel pounced. Lowering her trident she gave Sarah a quick hug.

 _Night!_ she mouthed skipping down the steps and taking Jim's hand. After waving a cheerful goodbye, she turned to Jim.

 _How'd I do?_

Jim read her lips. "Great."

 _Do you think she liked me?_

Jim stopped. Suddenly, he hugged Ariel with all his might. "Don't care."

Ariel jostled before returning his embrace. Perceiving something was wrong, she gently stroked his neck. When he did not release, Ariel kissed his cheek. _Super, she could stay here forever - she was happy as a clam!_

Jim sighed into her hair. "You look _amazing_."

Ariel grinned. She thrust Jim's hand lower on her back. _Look all you want sailor!_

"You smell amazing too."

Coquettishly, she twirled his rattail. _All for you spacer babe!_

"I'm _such_ an asshole."

Ariel puckered sympathetically. _Awww. Okay sad time over – kiss me!_

"I'm such a _freaking_ asshole."

Ariel smooched Jim's nose. _But a very, very cute asshole!_

"I think Peter's trying to take advantage of Wendy."

Ariel froze. Seriously, she tilted her head. _What?_

Jim wrung his tie. The knot was suffocating. "I don't know – Peter said all this crap today. They're out together now, I have no idea where. And you saw him – Peter just kept touching her like...like he owned her. And there is something Wendy's not telling me. I don't know what but – did she tell _you_ anything?"

Ariel shook her head. _No._

Jim rubbed his forehead. "This is not like her. Something is wrong."

Ariel twisted her trident, thinking. Finally she mouthed: _I think Wendy likes it._

"Excuse me?"

Frankly, Ariel shrugged. _Why not?_ She lifted two hands. _Wendy's a girl. Peter's a guy._

"Yeah." Jim said, anger rising. "Peter's also the guy that harassed her through high school. _I_ was there, _I_ had to deal with it. She almost died, remember? The pool? Peter front row and center - laughing?"

Ariel shrugged again. _People change._

Jim scoffed. "Not Pan. And Wendy...she's shy. She's not like that."

Roguishly Ariel grinned.

"What?" Jim said.

Ariel couldn't resist. _Wendy kisses with tongue._

"Oh god – Ariel! Why-?" Playfully they wrestled. "Why do you have to tell me that? God, not – oh gross. How am I supposed to concentrate tonight?"

Ariel grasped Jim's shoulders. Trident angled diligently to the side, she jumped and rode piggyback. Then she pointed to her wrist. It was already six o'clock – they were late.

"Yeah." Hiking Ariel higher on his hips, Jim trudged across Pirate's Point. "Time for the fun part of the evening."

Ariel propped her chin on his shoulder. Worriedly, she sighed.

"You okay?" Jim asked.

She nodded.

"Because I'm the one that's supposed to be nervous."

Ariel grinned. She squeezed her legs into his waist.

"I love you too." Jim replied.

Half an hour later, Ariel and Jim reached the Triton's front door. The mansion was brilliantly lit, but the golden windows glowered as they prepared to enter.

Jim was terrified. Wendy was right – he was jumping into a pool that he couldn't see the bottom. And he was sure there were sharks.

"Ariel...maybe this isn't...Ariel. Your dad...doesn't like me."

Ariel pulled Jim's tie. Unraveling the knot, she threw the tie over her shoulder and gave Jim a kiss.

 _Don't care!_ she mouthed, guiding him inside.

* * *

 **...**

 **Big4girl poem:**

 _ **Oh Sarah Hawkins is such a delight! I could talk to her day and night. Pardon the pun as I can't speak! Though my writing is happy, silly, and meek! Jim! Oh Jim! Oh Jimmy Jim, jim! I love him! I love him! Daddy is good, daddy is great, but he'll never catch up with James Hawkins in this race! Happy not sappy, Man not boy, Guardian not man! I love him and I'd shout it as loud as I can! Once again, pardon the pun! I barely get bye without making one!**_

 **...**


	42. C42: It's Fine By Me, If You Never Leave

**sultal's note: Again, pre-chapter notes - bleck. But the song is important.**

 **As promised - Peter and Wendy have their own song. "It's Fine By Me" by Andy Grammer.**

 **I REMEMBER hearing this song for the first time. Funny story-ish... I was studying with one of my "non fanfiction" friends and we were out of our minds with stress. Suddenly she was like "Listen to this." ...I listened, and started laughing out loud "It's perfect!" ... She goes "What?"... And I be all like, "Don't worry about it! But trust me - it's perfect!"**

 **Life...it's the darnest thing. keep writing.**

* * *

 **Chapter 42: It's Fine By Me, If You Never Leave**

The ocean sunset was staggering. Silver waves rolled under a kaleidoscope of colors, and stars were emerging at the very tip-top of the sky. It was colorful, dazzling, overwhelmingly beautiful…

And Wendy wanted to go home. Actually – she wanted to go to the Underworld. For the first time since returning to Fantasia, she wanted to crawl underground, take off the silly dress, and hide in the shadows.

Wendy wandered along the beach. At first she was numbed, shocked. Then finally breaking, she cried.

 _Why did Jim say that to her? Even if it was true, why did he have to say it? Just…why?_

Arms crossed, Wendy kneaded her stomach. She stared into the sunset until the glare burned her vision. She just stood. Emptily, she just stood.

 _Why did Jim say that to her?_

Decisively Wendy turned. "I'm going back." She spoke aloud to convince herself the decision was right. "I'm going back to the Underworld and I don't care if – "

Wendy stumbled. She almost tripped. Swaying on one foot, Wendy turned and looked down. A string of Christmas had snarled around her ankle. It was curious – she hadn't noticed them in the sand before…?

Remembering Peter's invitation, Wendy immediately looked up. She waited, expecting Peter to appear overhead. When he did not, Wendy knelt to untangle her ankle. Suddenly remembering Peter's indecent behavior the last time she had bent over, Wendy sharply turned. Nothing. The beach was empty.

Wendy peered. Charily she untied her ankle. She could _feel_ Peter. He _was_ somewhere, watching her – probably snickering his head off.

"Silly boy." Wendy murmured, detaching the Christmas lights. "Silly, silly boy."

The string of lights stretched innocently down the beach. Wendy traced the trail to a sandy dune, behind which the lights disappeared. Experimentally, she gave the lights a little tug. At the other end, someone tugged twice back.

 _This way._

Wendy sighed. Removing her slippers and dusting sand from her dress, she strode barefoot along the twinkling trail.

"Peter?" Wendy called, rounding the dune. Uncertainly, she followed the Christmas lights over a sandy pier and across an aquamarine lagoon. "Peter? Are you – "

Wendy halted. Before her, nestled in the sand, was the most magical homemade scene.

A smile spread into her downheartedness. Charmed, Wendy explored.

The trail of Christmas lights had been wound into a portable generator. A second string was looped across the sand. The pale lights glimmered like fireflies, especially as the evening grew dark.

A white teepee made of bedsheets stood in the center. The teepee had _also_ been adorned with Christmas lights to make the white linens glow. Delighted, Wendy peeked inside. She almost laughed. A picnic had been prepared: there was Mountain Dew (for Peter), iced tea (for her), glass flutes, and ingredients for s'mores. Wendy glanced to the corner – there were even two sharpened s'mores sticks, marked _His_ and _Hers_.

It was magical. It was cheesy. It was classic Peter Pan. And Wendy loved it.

 _Then_ she saw the boom box. The boom box was sitting unassumingly to the side, and Wendy wouldn't have noticed had there not been a sign reading **Wendy! Over Here! Press Play!**

Wendy knelt. The boom box's CD deck was open. A CD labeled ' **P + W'** in permanent marker waited inside.

Wendy glanced over her shoulder. Still no Peter. Returning to the boom box, she closed the deck, and pressed play.

She was surprised.

Aladdin's voice appeared.

 _'Is it on? Flynn is it freaking on? Okay. E hem. Here it goes. HIYA WENDY! Prince Ali in the house with my boys Flynn Ride-ski and Pan the Man! Happy whatever this is – Pete was sorta vague.'_

 _'ANYWAY - although I think talking to you through a pre-recorded CD is creepy, Pete thinks it's a good idea so we're gonna do it….I dunno, you're the one dating him…hold on a sec…lemmie get my speech…'_

Wendy tilted her head. As Aladdin's voice continued, she heard paper crinkling.

 _'Oooookay, sorry Wendy. I had to get my notes – this whole thing is scripted. Romantic, I know. Anyways…E hem. DEAR WENDY! Little may you know, but Peter plays the pan flute. It's probably the girliest instrument ever, but Pete's been playing it since childhood and he actually doesn't suck.'_

Wendy's eyebrows rose. _Really? That was knew._ She leaned, listening closely to Aladdin's speech.

 _'I'm sure you remember your first night as a guardian. Not many laughs, huh? Well, you weren't alone – Pete was lonely too. On his first night in the Skyworld, Peter missed you. Thinking of you, he took out his panflute and played a tune. Over six years the tune stuck…and Peter would always play it…when he…was lonely…for…you. Aw. Aw man. Oh geeze –'_

The paper crinkled. Aladdin broke character.

 _'Pete that's so stinking romantic. WARN a guy before you write this heartbreaking stuff! It's just so – aw buddy. I had no idea. Aw – I just….Pete c'mer we gotta hug this one out –'_

Wendy laughed as a skirmish followed. It ended with Aladdin blowing his nose.

 _'Anyway –_ sniff _– Wendy, this afternoon Peter played me the tune. He told me and Flynn how he felt about you, and we all helped write lyrics. Actually I wrote the lyrics, based on what Peter said. Flynn did zilch. But we made a song. And I'm singing it.'_

Suddenly Flynn piped from the background: _'I'm playing triangle!'_

Aladdin: _We cut it._

Flynn: _Curses!_

Aladdin again : _Flynn shut up! Sorry Wendy, I promise we are actually going to sing. Annnnnd…just so you know….'_

Aladdin started speaking fast: _This song is a registered trademark piece for the Prince Ali franchise for all lyrics, cords, and copyright purpose liable to me Prince Ali gold member of the Fantasian Musicians Associat—'_

Another skirmish. But when it ended, it was not Aladdin that spoke.

It was Peter.

 _'This song is for you pretty girl. So turn around and dance it with me. And Wendy…Happy Anniversary.'_

The track paused. The CD revolved.

Wendy didn't realize she was crying until Peter reached over her shoulders, and brushed away her tears.

A song started to play. It was simple. It was happy. It was hopeful.

Peter drew her up. He bowed, and smiled when Wendy curtsied.

 _'You're not the type, type of girl to remain_

 _With the guy, with the guy, too shy, too afraid_

 _To say he'll give his heart to you forever'_

Hand held gallantly behind his back, Peter lead Wendy at a little trot.

 _'I'm not the boy who will fall to his knees_

 _With his hands clasped tight_

 _Begging, begging you please_

 _To stay with him for worse or for better'_

Peter sidestepped. Hand weaving under her arms, he cradled Wendy's waist.

 _'But I'm staring at you now'_

He moved closer.

 _'There's no one else around'_

He smiled directly into her eyes.

 _'I'm thinking you're the girl for me.'_

And they danced.

And Peter Pan…was a _good_ dancer. Unencumbered by gravity he glided weightlessly, and reading his body, Wendy fluidly followed. The chorus hit, and they moved symbiotically, Peter twirling Wendy away and against him like waves upon the shore.

 _'I'm just saying it's fine by me_

 _If you never leave_

 _And we can lay like this forever_

 _It's fine by me!'_

The chorus faded, trickling to the solo verses. Stepping lightly, Peter lead Wendy again, but this time he cut into the ocean.

 _'In the past I would try_

 _Try hard to commit to a girl_

 _Wouldn't get too far_

 _It always somehow seemed to fall apart'._

Breaking from the trot, Peter turned Wendy through a pirouette. He laughed out loud when she added a skip, splashing over his bare feet.

 _'But with you, you, you_

 _I can see what I need_

 _I can dream realistically_

 _I knew that this was different from the start.'_

Peter reverse directions. He pirouetted Wendy with both hands, and their arms braided like Celtic knots.

 _'And it seems that every time_

 _We're eye to eye_

 _I can find another piece of you_

 _That I don't wanna lose.'_

Peter locked Wendy in a pirouette, cushioning her back against his front.

 _'And I'm staring at you now'_

Peter tilted his head.

 _'There's no one else around'_

Wendy tilted hers.

 _'I'm thinking you're the girl I need.'_

They touched nose to nose.

And again, they danced – skimming though the water, swirling over the sand.

 _'I'm just saying it's fine by me_

 _If you never leave_

 _And we can lay like this forever_

 _It's fine by me!_

 _I'm just saying it's fine by me_

 _If you never leave_

 _And we can lay like this forever_

 _It's fine by me!'_

The chorus drummed into the bridge. Perhaps it was a cord depressed. Perhaps it was a solemner tone. Either way Peter secured Wendy against him. Together they navigated the intricate steps, emphasizing the lyrics without speaking.

 _'And it's never easy_

 _Darling, believe me_

 _I'm as skeptical as you_

 _When I think of life without "us"_

 _It seems like "What we're supposed to do? "_

 _But I don't wanna come on too strong.'_

Peter slowed. Then he stopped. Ocean breathing around them, Peter cupped Wendy's cheeks, pressed his lips to her forehead, and spoke the lyrics.

 _"_ I'm just saying it's fine by me

If you never leave

We can lay like this forever

It's fine by me."

For a second the music paused. For a second they looked into each other's eyes.

Then Peter seized Wendy's waist, and swung her into the air. The last chorus sang; Peter and Wendy danced to their second dance, over the ocean and inside a starlit sky.

 _'It's fine by me_

 _If you never leave_

 _And we can lay like this forever_

 _It's fine by me!_

 _I'm just saying it's fine by me_

 _If we never leave_

 _And we can lay like this forever_

 _It's fine by me!'_

Wendy spun, landing gracefully on Peter's knee. The song ended, but Peter held the position. Tipping Wendy across his knee, Peter leaned. Wendy closed her eyes, waiting for his kiss.

"Rain?"

Wendy opened her eyes. Peter was smiling at her.

"Rain?" he repeated, glancing up. "Would you like a kiss in the rain? They're suppose to be romantic."

Wendy looked. The sky was starry, perfectly clear.

"How?" she asked.

Peter grinned. Wendy balanced carefully, he raised a hand and _snapped_. Immediately, a puffy little raincloud condensed, and bustled over their heads. Gently, it started to rain.

"Skyworld perks." Peter said, returning his hand. Tenderly he lowered. "But only you can make this magical."

They kissed. The little raincloud cried with happiness.

As they withdrew, Peter sighed. Scooping her up, he cradled Wendy against his chest.

Neither could stop smiling.

Then Peter's smile turned mischievous.

He looked up at the raincloud. He looked down at the ocean. Then he looked at Wendy.

"Well…" Peter grinned. "Since we're already wet."

Wendy realized a moment too late. "Oh Peter –!"

 _Splash!_ Peter dropped, plunging them into the ocean. And together they romped, frolicked, and played in the waves.

It was the perfect anniversary.

* * *

 **...**

 **Big4girl:**

 ** _I'm loving this! I'm loving you! More than I always do! I feel like a kid again, I'm a girl and you're no man! Can't you see! I'm bright with glee! And of course it's fine by me if I never leave! We could stay like this forever! How I'd love to see! The world unfold around me, as we stay right here forever! Hand in hand, striding across the sand, a lovely night, sitting in the firelight. Peter you've come so far, I'd think this was the work of that pesky star, if I didn't know you now, and forever how, much you've changed, how much we've aged! I love you Peter Pan, you're the man._**

 **...**


	43. Chapter 43: Meeting The Boyfriend

**Chapter 43: Meeting The Boyfriend**

"So. _This_ is the mysterious boyfriend?"

"James is it? Oh dearie, don't go by Jim. It's common. Common men go nowhere – remember that."

"Oh that's adorable – he drinks _sauvignon blanc_ with clams. Dear boy, _semillon_ is the best white wine to go with that appetizer."

"Interesting. _Where_ did you say your family was from?"

"You two met…in a bar? That's…"

" _Adopted_ siblings? Hm. Risky, your parents must be saints. Oh you've only a mother? Hm. Telling."

"Fascinating hairstyle. What do you call it?"

"Didn't care to wear a tie did you? Eh, you're a product of your station. Not your fault."

"So Ariel, how long do you plan on keeping _this_ one - ?"

"—or is he another crab in the bucket?"

"What is that scar?"

Jim was drowning, and he was drowning fast.

The Triton's dinner party was a bloodbath. Ariel's family swarmed him like piranhas. It was all Jim could do to keep his nose above water.

Everything was unfamiliar, everything was disorienting.

First, the mansion itself resembled an underwater cavern. The rooms were so dim and reflective, Jim couldn't see family members as they approached. They just snuck up – like sharks.

Second, the Triton's were extravagant – almost hedonistic. There was an excessive amount of food (which no one was eating) and an open bar with oceans of liquor (which everyone was drinking). Half of the appetizers were raw, half had names Jim couldn't pronounce, and they all were supposed to be paired with the 'perfect wine.' After his first failed attempt (which was apparently very "droll"), Jim refused to indulge.

Third, Ariel's relatives were…fake. There was no other word for it. They dripped with underhanded compliments and judged him behind counterfeit smiles. The Triton Mansion was a stage, and the family members were the actors. It was an unreal situation, especially since Jim conducted himself honestly (which _again_ the Tritons found very "droll").

Finally there were the girls. Lots and lots and LOTS of girls.

Originally, Jim hadn't been concerned; after all, Wendy was a girl she was his best friend. Moreover, his mom and Ariel were girls. Ergo, girls were principled (Wendy), tough (Mom), vivacious (Ariel) and smart (all of them).

Cool. Easy. No sweat.

Wrong.

The Triton girls were giggly, gossipy, and snobby. Jim quickly learned that "intelligent conversation" was limited to lip gloss and butt aerobics. To make matters worse, they called him "Jimmy." His nightmare was complete.

Of Ariel's family, the saving grace were Attina and Kocoum. Two years married, Attina and Kocoum were a pleasant couple. Like Ariel, Attina's intelligence distinguished her from her sisters. Kocoum was a serious sort, but a breath of fresh air. Jim enjoyed their company, and he was devastated when they left.

"It was nice to see you again Jim." Attina said as Kocum offered her coat. "Take care of my little sister."

"I will."

"Safe travels." Kocoum extended a solemn hand. As an afterthought, he glanced at the fray. "Good luck."

"Thanks." Jim said. "I'll need it."

Attina and Kocoum departed. Wishing he was with them, Jim retreated to a love-seat. Ariel had been abducted by her relatives, and Jim was uncomfortable without her. Willing himself invisible, he sat admits the pretentious crowd.

Pensively, Jim stared into a wine glass. Thoughts scattering, he worried about Wendy.

Then he heard her name.

"—never believe that Peter would want to mess with Wendy."

Jim stiffened. One of Ariel's sisters was talking – there too many to remember. Maybe it was Arista? Tilting his ear, Jim listened. Two other girls had joined. They were giggling.

"Peter messes with everyone Arista! Like every girl in school, remember? He did with me."

"And me. Twice. In the pool. So hot."

Arista sneered. "Yeah-yuh, old news. But tonight, Peter's mine. He's coming to _Tiana's Palace_ to see Prince Ali. After that - we're going to make a home run."

The girls snickered. "I think you're leftovers, Arista! He was sucking face today with Wendy!"

"Basically undressed her in _Tony's Restaurant_."

"I guess absence makes the heart grow fonder! Ooo! Ooo! Ooo!"

 _Clink._ Arista set her glass. "Shut up! Peter wants a _real_ woman. Wendy's just another virgin on Peter's hit list. Tink told me – Peter's going to bang her and send her crying back to the Underworld – "

Jim stood. "That's my _sister_ you're talking about."

Surprised, Arista stumbled. Jim advanced, ready to rip the mascara right off her eyelashes.

Suddenly, an enormous hand grasped his shoulder.

Admiral Triton. And Petty Officer Sebastian.

"Daddy!" Arista gushed, clearly relieved. She smiled sweetly at her father. "Daddy, I was just talking to Ariel's _newest_ boyfriend. Something Ariel and the after, after party….?"

Admiral Triton clenched Jim's collar bone. Jim grit his teeth as the admiral dug.

"I'm afraid there will be no after, after party Arista." Admiral Triton glowered. "For either of you."

"Me? But Daddy I didn't – "

"I said no to _Tiana's Palace_ tonight, Arista." Admiral Triton said, pulling Jim around. "That is an order. Go on – be a good hostess, do not disgrace me. On the double. Now Hawkins…. _move_."

Admiral Triton steered Jim through the gathering and down an empty hall. Wordlessly, he shoved Jim into an ocean-view den. The door was shut. The lock was set.

Admiral Triton turned. "What do you know of _The Princess_?"

Jim frowned. "What?"

"Don't mock me boy. What do you know of _The Princess_?"

Jim was clueless. But he was also mad. Guardedly, Jim glanced to either side. John Smith stood to his left. Eric to his right. Both sailors. Both naval captains. Both buddies with Admiral Triton. Super.

"What princess?" Jim finally asked. "Who?"

Eric snuffed. "He's playing with us. _Cur_."

" _Cur_?" Jim glared at Eric. "That the best you got? Look - I don't know what you are talking about. I just came with Ariel for – "

"You _actually_ think the admiral invited you for _dinner_?" Amused, Eric crossed his arms. "Come on Hawkins – you're supposed to be the _shrewd_ guardian."

Jim's stomach double flipped. The dinner was a set up. Stupid -how could be be so stupid.

Darkly, Jim turned to Admiral Triton. " _What is this_?"

"This," Eric replied. "Is an interrogation. Captain Smith sighted _The Princess_ off the Northern Fantasian Sea. And given your _affiliations_ – "

"Captain Eric." Admiral Triton interrupted. He and Sebastian glared callously. "I did not grant you permission to speak."

Dutifully, Eric quieted. But as Admiral Triton continued, he smiled wickedly at Jim.

"As my captains have noted." Admiral Triton began, " _The Princess_ has invaded Fantasian waters, for the first time in a decade. _The Princess_ is a ship…." Admiral Triton's eyes flickered to Jim's scar. "…a _pirate_ ship."

Jim clenched his fist. "I'm not a pirate."

Eric scoffed. John raised a brow. Admiral Triton glared them into silence.

"You wear the pirate brand, Hawkins. Therefore, you immediately gain my mistrust. However… that is not why I think you are lying."

Admiral Triton advanced. Jim stood his ground. But when Admiral Triton spoke, Jim's blood ran cold.

"You see, _The Princess_ is captained by Sinbad."

* * *

 **...**

 **Big4girl poem:**

 _ **Girls, Girls are so strange, giggly, giddy, and free range. They say what they want, they do what they please. All I can say is an enormous geez. Girls are so funky, spunky and happy. All of this is joyful instead of sappy. I thought it was formal, but it appears I was wrong. Poor Ariel, growing up with their song.**_

 **...**


	44. Chapter 44: Ariel's Wish

**Chapter 44: Ariel's Wish**

Jim hardly breathed.

" _...what_?"

" _The Princess_." Admiral Triton repeated. "Is captained by Sinbad."

Admiral Triton paused. Aiming his words, he cut Jim apart. "Your _father_."

Everything inside Jim broke.

 _Sinbad._

 _The man who ran away._

 _The man who never came back._

 _Sinbad._

 _His father._

Jim saw every disgusting part of himself, and in _every_ memory he became Sinbad.

 _He had hurt Wendy, made her cry – Sinbad had hurt his mother, and left her crying in an empty home._

 _He let Wendy go, he wasn't there to protect her – Sinbad had deserted his family to poverty and shame._

 _Ariel was a princess. Jim was sum, scum of the stars – Sinbad was scum, scum of the seas._

 _Jim was branded a pirate – Sinbad was a pirate._

 _Jim: wide shoulders, brown hair, hollow cheeks, sharp jaw, sunken eyes – Sinbad: wide shoulders, brown hair, hollow cheeks, sharp jaw, sunken eyes._

 _Like father...like...son._

Admiral Triton was talking, but Jim could not hear. His ears were roaring. His heart flat-lined. Every monster, every demon, every ounce of hate exhumed from the darkest corner of Jim's soul, screaming to get out.

He had to leave. He had to leave _now_.

Jim moved for the door. Catching him under the arm, Admiral Triton ruthlessly flung Jim back.

"We are not through Hawkins. I want answers, and I want them –"

"I don't know anything!" Jim snarled. "I don't know anything about him!"

"You expect me to believe that the _second_ his son returns to Fantasia, your father -"

"He is _not_ my father – _I already have one_!"

"Lying will get you nowhere! This is a matter of national –"

"I'm not lying!"

" _Do. Not. Lie._ " Admiral Triton's eyebrows dove. "You are a guardian, _responsible_ for protecting Fantasia from pirates and invaders _even_ if you are his godforsaken offspring – "

"He's a son of a bitch!"

Admiral Triton faltered; Jim's voice was unrecognizable. He sounded carnal – like an animal. Or...a cyborg.

"I don't care about him, or his ship!"Jim growled. "I pray every god dam night that he goes to Hell!"

"Is that where you'll join him?" Eric sneered.

"Piece of shit I'll see you there!"

"ENOUGH." Admiral Triton seized Jim's collar. Lethally, he twisted both fists inward. "Guardian or not you are and will always be Sinbad's son. _Yes_ you have served Fantasia. _Yes_ you have fought our war. _Yes_ the Wishing Star deems you worthy _but I am not fooled_. Were it in my power I _swear_ that you would be locked behind prison bars."

Admiral Triton clenched. Jim saw his reflection in the admiral's stormy eyes.

"But...you have been granted protection by the king. We have been in consult, and King Arthur demands I leave you free. Therefore, as a _military officer_ I am powerless to detain you...however as a _father_..."

Admiral Triton pressed into Jim and hissed.

"As a father, I have power. Jim Hawkins, listen well. I order you: _Stay. Away. From. My. Daughter._ If I find you anywhere in Ariel's company – I will chain you to the bottom of the sea."

Jim stared, unable to speak. Then, he grasped the admiral's hands and ripped them from his shirt.

"Get your _fucking_ hands off of me."

Admiral Triton jerked. He twitched for Jim's throat before slowly withdrawing.

"Captain Eric." Admiral Triton unlocked the door. "Escort _Lord_ Hawkins out from my home."

Eric smiled. "With pleasure."

They corralled him like an animal. Blind with rage Jim stumbled through smears of patronizing faces. Wildly he searched for Ariel, but Eric shoved his neck down.

"Finally. Peace and quiet." Shadowed by Admiral Triton, Eric mocked into Jim's ear. "Been a long time since I took out the trash."

Jim swerved. "Let me talk to Ariel – "

Eric rammed Jim's low back. He smiled as Jim grunted. "Don't worry. I'll tell Ariel you've left. After I propose."

Jim stopped. Dead.

Eric laughed.

"That's right, pirate. In two days look down from the Outerworld, won't you? Ariel and I will be sharing a wedding bed – "

Jim turned. And he punched. Brutally he attacked, fist driving into Eric without mercy and without recompense. Blood exploded under his knuckles, bones crunched under his skin. People screamed, glasses broke, and someone that smelled like Ariel hugged his shoulders and pulled. But Jim was insane. Every hate and every fear he propelled through his arm into Eric.

A blur followed. The moments broke apart, and somehow Jim's fist flew from hitting Eric to hitting his bedroom wall. How he got home, Jim didn't remember. But when he got there Jim was alone; alone with his memories, alone with his guilt, and alone with his agony.

Jim struck the wall. His knuckles stung. With every impact his shoulder screamed, ready to pop from the socket.

"Damn Eric!"

 _WACK._ _Icy blue eyes, laughing. Hands over Ariel, inside her wavy read hair._

"Damn Triton!"

 _WACK._ _Stay. Away. From. My. Daughter._

"Damn Peter!"

 _WACK. WACK. WACK. An evil face. A little girl with a blue bow in her hair._

"Damn Wendy!

The pain was _everywhere_. The pain was everywhere and he could not stop it. Fists raw and bleeding, Jim annihilated the wall...

...and himself.

"Damn HIM! Damn HIM! DAMN SINBAD! Damn it Jim you fucking – you fucking – you – you –"

Jim collapsed. Clawing his head he groped at the nightmares. He dug fingernails into his skin, drawing blood.

"Damn it..." Jim breathed. "...damn it."

Suddenly he felt wetness. A splash of water, squirted at his ear.

Jim lowered his hands.

Ariel scowled over him. The window was open behind her. A squirt gun was held angrily in her hand.

Jim opened his mouth.

Before he could speak, Ariel squirted him with the gun. Trident needling the carpet, she advanced.

"Hey!" Jim said. "I tried! I – "

Ariel squirted again. She shot him between the eyes.

Furiously she mouthed.

 _YOU LEFT._

Jim wiped the water. " _You_ picked the wrong guy!"

Ariel stomped. She squirted again.

 _DON'T EVER LEAVE ME LIKE THAT!_

Jim trembled. "Why not? Sinbad left–! "

Ariel squirted.

"—I'm his son – !"

Ariel squirted again.

Jim growled from the depth of his heart "—Eric's the one your family wants! So go with him! He can be there for you in two days when the Wishing Star makes me LEAVE AND NEVER COME BACK so why don't you just – "

Ariel threw the squirt gun. It hit Jim's chest. Choking, Jim turned, stumbled -

Dropping her trident, Ariel seized Jim as he shattered like glass. Crumbling like a child, he wept into Ariel. He held her long. He held her desperately. He held her for dear life.

The moment froze.

Then Ariel made her wish.

Ariel brushed Jim's cheek. Her fingers trickled into his hair. Gently, she smoothed his bangs so he could read her lips.

Jim dripped with tears. Ariel spoke. He read.

"I love you too." he whispered. "But - "

Ariel pressed a finger to his lips. She smiled. Cursing her family, her father, and their star-crossed love, Ariel Triton told Jim Hawkins her wish.

Jim was the only man in the world that could read Ariel's lips. But as she divulged, he did not _believe_ what he saw.

"You...want...to...ha..."

Jim stopped. He breathed.

" _Ariel_."

Ariel laced herself in Jim's arms. Together they lowered onto the bed.

Ariel once asked Wendy if Peter was a good kisser. And apparently Peter was – he was adventurous, fiery, and selfish. Yes. Peter was a good kisser.

But he paled to Jim.

Jim...was intense. As he kissed her, Jim pushed Ariel mind, body, and soul through the ceiling, out of the world, and into heaven.

* * *

 **...**

 **Big4girl:**

 _ **One wish, my wish is for his kiss. I hate my displeased family and that butt Eric too. The only one I love is him, and doubters can shoo, because he's my man, my one true love, and when he kisses me my heart flies above. So watch and you'll see, someday I will be, part of his world forever, and shall he leave me I think never. I will love Jim Hawkins until the day that I die, and even in heaven my heart will fly.**_

 **...**


	45. Chapter 45: SEXiled

**Chapter 45: SEXiled**

Romantic, romantic, it was all very romantic. Peter's anniversary surprise inflated Wendy with happiness. Peter reminded Wendy a dozen times how debonair he was, and gave her permission to brag on his account. After all – who else could summon a personal nimbus cloud for romantic kisses in the rain?

 _"No one but Peter Pan."_ Wendy had humorously consented. Then, looking at the raincloud still crying over them, she had asked. _"But does it turn off?"_

 _"Ummmmm."_ Peter had waggled his head. _"Not exactly sure...?"_

The real answer was no.

As the little raincloud poured, Peter cheerfully explained that he'd actually never summoned a raincloud before. Ergo, he'd never dismissed one. Clouds tended to be finicky – very ethereal, very hard to control.

Moreover, the raincloud adored Peter and Wendy. It followed them _everywhere_ – even under the teepee. It was cute at first, but when their s'mores became soggy, Peter became annoyed.

As Peter yelled _"Scram! Beat it ya dumb cloud!"_ Wendy had taken full advantage of the rare opportunity.

" _What? A disobedient cloud? There is a creature that Peter Pan cannot charm? Say not so!"_

Peter had promptly slung Wendy over his shoulder. After a playful spank he jumped into the air. _"Smart girl, huh? C'mon! We'll outrun it!"_

A _rollicking_ flight later, Peter kicked open the window to Wendy's room. As the pane swung, the little raincloud squeezed buckets over their heads.

"Shut the window!" Wendy giggled as Peter carried her inside. Extending over his shoulder, she grabbed the latch. "Shut the window and be careful! It's wet Peter, make sure you don't – "

"Whuooop!"

Whether it was purposeful or not, Peter slipped on the wet sill. As the window shut, he and Wendy crashed landed with an awful _thump_. As they tumbled Peter wacked into something that teetered, fell, and smashed.

"Oof!" Peter landed on Wendy. He snickered at the broken lamp. "Oh I hope that wasn't valuable!"

Wendy smothered her laughter. They were both squishing with rain water.

"Thank heavens the cloud didn't come inside!"

"Well I TOLD you I could outrun it! Safe and sound! But now..." Peter propped on his elbows. Cheek in hand, he sagged into Wendy. "Watcha want to do now pretty girl?"

" _You_ need to be quiet!" Wendy warned. She squirmed under his weight. "My brothers are down the hall and Jim is in the next room!"

Peter rolled back and forth. "There's a wall, ain't there? Ooo! Let's play hide and seek! You hide I'll seek!"

"Peter!" Smiling, Wendy covered his mouth. "Shh!"

He seized her ribs and tickled. "You shh!"

"Mmmmimmm!" Wendy whimpered, trying not to squeal. Kicking, she hooked Peter's neck and pulled upright. "Silly, stop it!Come on now, let me undress!"

Peter faltered. "You -?" He paused as Wendy moved into him. He waited a breathless moment. And then he grabbed.

Wendy fell back. Peter's hands crawled under her like spiders, one pulling her zipper the other diving down her spine.

"W-wait – " Wendy tried to stop the misunderstanding. "W – Pet – "

His mouth clamped over hers. He started biting, he started chewing. His hands were everywhere, sheering her skin, smoothing her bodice, jumpstarting her heart –

Panicking, Wendy shook her head. Jerking free, she gasped. "Pet - Sto- Pe - _please_ \- ! "

Peter's eyes opened. Grinding a cheek against her mouth he whispered. "Do you want to?"

"Wendy?" Sarah's voice suddenly called. "Wendy is that you up there?"

Wendy's heart banged into Peter's.

"God!" Rising, Peter hit the floor. "What IS it with your family? Can't we get one second to oursel – "

"Wendy?" Sarah's voice was sharper. "Honey are you in your room?"

Untangling herself, Wendy pushed Peter to the window.

"Go. Go, go, go!"

Peter bumped over the ledge. As the raincloud charged, he looped Wendy's waist. "Okay! Hold tight!"

"No!" Wendy exclaimed, louder than she meant. Trembling, she detached Peter's hands. "No, Sarah knows I'm here – just go! Go, just go!"

Peter frowned. Concernedly, he touched her cheek. "Hey you okay -?"

"Wendy!" Footsteps climbed the stairs. 'Wendy, answer me."

Wendy drew the pane. Peter lodged it with his foot.

"I'll wait out here!"

"No don't, I have to change!"

"At least it will be a good view!"

"Peter – "

Sarah knocked. "Wendy?"

Wendy pushed. Peter caught her arm and yanked. As she fell, he rubbed her bare back.

"To be continued?"

Sarah knocked again. "Wendy I'm coming in."

Wendy seized the window.

The doorknob turned.

Peter blew a kiss. "Wendy I – "

Wendy wrenched. Closing the window and ripping the curtain, she spun as Sarah entered the room.

"Honey? Are you..." Sarah blinked. "Wendy? Wendy why are you all wet?"

Wendy exhaled. Her dress dripped on the carpet. Aside from Peter's miniature raincloud, the sky was perfectly clear. "Um, I..."

"How did you get home?"Sarah asked, scanning the room. "Was that Peter?"

Wendy ran a foot behind her ankle. "Yes. He...just left."

Sarah raised a brow.

Wendy felt obligated to explain. "Peter doesn't believe in doors. He flies...after all. And we had a little um, mishap...on the way."

Sarah drummed the doorknob.

"Wendy," she said. "Is there something you want to tell me?"

Wendy wrung her hands behind her back. Guilty she felt her sleeve, hanging off her shoulder.

"Like what?"

Sarah's gaze was penetrating. Wendy looked down. Sarah was dangerously shrewd. Moreover, she was a mother - Sarah knew all the tricks; and avoiding the truth was the same as a lie.

"I think..." Sarah finally said. "We need have a talk, you and I. But not tonight, _we'll_ talk tomorrow. _Tonight_ I need to speak with you and Jim about your... _relationships_. So, when Jim gets home – "

Abruptly the doorbell rang. Urgently it kept ringing.

Irritated, Sarah turned. "Who could that...? Hm. Okay. Wendy, take a shower and change. When Jim gets home, we're going to talk."

Wendy nodded meekly. "Yes ma'am."

"No ma'ams you're not in trouble, we just need to talk. Go on. Hop in the shower. After I see who's at the door, I'll be right up."

Wendy obeyed. Still quivering from Peter's offensives, she peeked out the window. Peter had disappeared – probably trying to escape the little raincloud.

Wendy sighed. Her lips were burning. Her head was buzzing. Her skin tingled where Peter had touched. It had been terrifying; she'd never realized how strong Peter was. But, there had also been a tenderness to his aggression. Almost...loving. Almost...nice.

"No." Wendy scolded herself. "No, no, no. That's not me, that's not proper. What would mother think?"

It was a conundrum, one that Wendy was too emotionally fluxed to resolve. Uncertain if she was relieved or disappointed, Wendy crossed the hallway, opened the bathroom door –

-and bumped into Ariel.

"Ariel? Ariel what are you – ?"

Wendy's mouth dropped. Like a nightgown, Ariel was wearing Jim's button down shirt.

And nothing else.

"Oh!" Wendy banged against the door. "Oh I'm –I'm-I'm- I'm sorry I – _umpph!?"_

Ariel slapped her hand over Wendy's mouth. Earnestly she started to mime, trying to explain, when suddenly –

"Where is he? He left and Ariel disapp – ARIEL! ARIEL THIS IS YOUR FATHER!"

Ariel froze. As Admiral Triton bellowed downstairs she hauled Wendy out of the bathroom and into Jim's room.

"Ariel!" Already alerted, Jim was en route for the door. "Ariel I think your Dad is – whoa!"

Sighting Wendy, Jim backpedaled. Bare chested and stripped to his boxers he yelped. "Wen! What the – "

Ariel released Wendy. Frantically motioning, she pointed as Admiral Triton thundered upstairs.

Although he was flustered, Jim understood.

"Shit! Okay – " Jim lunged. As Ariel ran to the window he threw her clothes. Catching them, Ariel swung out a leg, tapped her lips –

"Fine!" Sprinting, Jim gave Ariel a kiss. Holding longer than they should, Ariel and Jim separated as Admiral Triton burst through the door.

"ARIEL!" Admiral Triton bulldozed for Wendy. Startled, Wendy stumbled over the bed as he advanced. "Ariel Triton get away from that – "

Recognizing Wendy, Admiral Triton screeched to a halt. Face contorting, he found Jim.

"Where is _she_? Where is – "

"Admiral! That is enough!" Furiously, Sarah entered. "How dare you storm into our house! I have children sleeping and – "

"Where is Ariel?" Admiral Triton demanded, ignoring Sarah. "I forbade you to see her, Hawkins – where is she?"

Jim growled. "Are you _mental_? I'm in my freaking _boxers_."

"Answer the question!"

"Ariel's not here." Jim retorted, jaw stiff as stone. "Uptown girls don't take out trash, remember?"

" _What_?" Sarah barked at Admiral Triton. "You said _that_ to my son!?"

Admiral Triton approached Jim. "Ariel is not here?"

"No."

"And she has not been here?"

"Right again, genius."

Admiral Triton's eyes flashed. "All right..." He pointed at Jim's bed. Clinging to the sheets, and overlooked during Ariel's escape, was a lacy thong. The underwear was purple, the exact color of Ariel's seashell brazier.

"Then _whose_..." Admiral Triton hissed. "...are _those_?"

Jim paled. He stared, unable to answer.

"Th - They're - "

Jim looked as Wendy suddenly spoke.

"They're – they're mine." Quickly, Wendy rounded the bed. Stuffing the underwear inside her hands, she stumbled through an explanation. "I – my – my dress – it's wet – and –I needed to change – "

Admiral Triton sneered. He was so condescending, Wendy recoiled with humiliation.

" _In here_?"

She was mortified. Absolutely mortified.

"I...I..."

" _Don't_ talk to her like that." Jim stood over Wendy like a father bear. "Our laundry got mixed up, it happens all the time. Ariel is not here. Get your head out of your ass and _out_ _of our house_."

"Jim! Admiral!All of you stop it!" Sarah said. "Stop it now! Jim – enough with that mouth! And Admiral how _dare_ you insult my children! They've don't nothing wrong but – "

"Your son is a liar and a leech , much like his father." Admiral Triton interrupted. "Ariel is missing and I _know_ she was here despite the conspiracy your _children_ have played. But as for their wrongdoings, I _believe_ you and I are in accord – these romances must end."

"What?"Lividly, Jim turned to his mother. "What is he talking about?"

"You are guardians!" Admiral Triton continued, cutting Sarah short. "Both of you! In two days you will leave Fantasia, perhaps never to return! Time will stretch your infatuations into indifference and your memories into oblivion. These high school romances _cannot_ endure. Therefore they _must_ end. For both of you."

"Wha - but! What?" Desperately Wendy looked to Sarah. "But Peter and I –"

"—will never see each other again – " Admiral Triton snapped.

"No!" Wendy cried, "—no but you don't understand – "

"It's for your own good!"

"But – "

"Young lady I consider you the _practical_ one in this wretched family – get hold of your senses! We are trying to protect you!"

"Protect us?" Jim said. "Protect us from what? You have no idea what we mean to each other, and I'm not going to runaway! I'm not going to leave —"

"It's not a matter if you _would_ or _would not_ leave!" Admiral Triton pointed violently at the window. The Wishing Star twinkled in the corner. "The decision is not within your power to choose! Don't you see – _you are going to leave_! It _will_ be over!"

"Admiral!" Sarah shrieked. "STOP! You've hurt them enough, _get out_!"

"Madame, unhand – !"

"I said!" Sarah heaved Admiral Triton out the door. "GET OUT!"

The door shut. And as it swung, the panel uncovered Ariel's trident, glimmering against the wall.

* * *

 **...**

 **Big4girl poem:**

 _ **Oh no, Oh no, my heart hurts so. What they said could be true and I'm scared what this curse will do! We have to find a way! Even if I run away! Oh whatever can I do! It just can't be true! It can't…it can't be true…**_

 **...**

* * *

 **sultal's note: FINALLY got my fanart muscles in gear! Been a long time and I really should do more lol. Anyway - drawing of Wendy and Jim (21 years old) on my Deviant Art page entitled "Where's The Bow? (Under the Hat!)" and STAR WARS fans - check out Jim's shirt ;)**


	46. Chapter 46: Sibling Rivalry

**Chapter 46: Sibling Rivalry**

Jim exhaled. As his mother and Admiral Triton quarreled downstairs, Jim turned to the window and leaned over the edge. Following an unsuccessful search for Ariel, he crossed the room, carefully lifted her trident, and slipped it under the bed.

"Close." Jim breathed. Hands shaking, he wrapped a bed-sheet over the gleaming shaft and golden teeth. "Too close."

Jim sighed. He looked at Wendy.

Wendy was traumatized. There were a million expressions on her face. And Jim (unfortunately) could identify every one: alarm, horror, disgust, concern, embarrassment, and outrage. Above all, outrage.

Jim stood. Unemotionally he took Ariel's undergarment from her hands.

"Thanks."

Wendy snapped from her astonishment.

"Thanks? _Thanks_?" Appalled, Wendy watched as Jim hid Ariel's underwear inside his helmet. "That's all? That's all you have to say for yourself? _Thanks_?"

Jim climbed into pajama pants. "Thanks a lot."

" _Thanks – a – lot_?" Wendy was beside herself. "No! No! That's not all you get to say! I can't believe you! I can't believe you! _Were you_...? Where _you_...?"

Jim glowered. "Making love?"

His bluntness embarrassed her. Regardless, Wendy spluttered.

"Well – _were_ you?"

Bitterly Jim stared. "Yes."

"Jim!" Wendy shook her head. Everything was happening too fast to control, too fast to stop. Wendy's emotions clashed into her sensibility, throwing her world to pieces.

"Jim –" Wendy pleaded, trying to regain control. "Jim do you really think that's the _best_ idea?"

Jim's tensed. "Why not? _You are_."

His accusation hit her like a knife.

" _I. Am. Not_."

"Really?" Jim gestured at her soaking, unzipped dress. "Then explain this."

"What kind of foul minded – "

"Well there is _something_ you're not telling me!"

"How do you know!?"

"I know!"

"You _don't_ know!"

"I KNOW!" Furiously Jim advanced. "Wendy Moria – "

Wendy spit. "Don't you Wendy Moria _me_ James Pleiades—"

" _Wendy_!" Jim ruptured. Everything he'd been withholding whipped out like a switch blade. "Wendy I've known you for too long, I can read you like a book! And I know there's something you've kept secret from me EVER since we left Fantasia six years ago and it's eating you alive!"

Guilt bled across Wendy's face and she knew he saw it. Heart racing she searched for an excuse, a lie, something, _anything_ to conceal her engagement. If Jim discovered she and Peter were betrothed – he'd never speak to her again.

"This – this is not about me!" Wendy sputtered, gripping her dress. "And I am _ashamed_ of you for thinking so crudely! How could you _say_ that? How could you _think_ that I would _ever_ give myself to Peter or to any other man for that matter! We are not _doing that_! BUT even if we were – which we are NOT – it would be none of your business!"

"You are dead wrong!" Jim countered. "It's _all_ of my business!"

"No it's not!"

"Yes it is!"

"Why?" Wendy demanded. She could almost _feel_ the proverbial leash and life-jacket Jim was trying to keep around her. "Why is any of your – "

"Because it's Pan!" Jim yelled. "And I don't want him – _touching_ you!"

Unconsciously Wendy reached to her unfastened zipper. "That is vulgar! That is _so_ vulgar!" She spoke louder, trying to dispel her fears. "Peter is a gentleman –"

"He's a piece of shit!"

"—which is more than I can say for SOME people!"

Jim's tone was darker than night. "Wen. You _do not_ want to go there."

"Ohhhhhh!" Clenching her hair, Wendy turned. Realizing she'd insulted Jim and struggling to stay calm, Wendy attempted an opposing argument.

"Well what about you? What if Ariel gets – gets –"

" _Pregnant_?" Completely prepared for the surprise attack, Jim growled. "Then I will be the best fucking dad in the universe!"

"Not with language like that!"

Jim slammed his dresser. Wendy jumped.

"What are you saying?" Jim snarled. "You saying I'm like HIM?"

"No!" Wendy begged, on the verge of tears. "No I didn't say that!"

"Are you saying I'm like SINBAD?"

"I DID NOT say that!"

"Are you saying I'm going trash Ariel AND LEAVE?"

"Stop putting words in my mouth!" Wendy shouted.

"Better than ideas in your head!" Jim exploded, crushing Wendy into silence. "Because apparently you think I'm the type of scumbag that will take Ariel, leave her with a baby, then run away and never come back! Well let me tell you something – I'd never hurt Ariel! NEVER! But I wouldn't trust Pan not to hurt you! He's the same and he'll never change! Everyone knows what he's trying to do, EXCEPT YOU! Well I am NOT going to let him treat you like a tramp! Wendy I DON'T CARE if you cry, I DON'T CARE if you hate me but _I am going to protect you from him_!"

Wendy was livid. She was so mad she could hardly speak.

"No!" Wendy stomped, tears streaming. "No! You CAN'T KEEP ME from Peter!"

"I WON'T HAVE TO!" Jim yelled. "Because you're going back to the Underworld so get used to being without him ALONE!"

Wendy staggered back. As if he'd hit her, she clasped her mouth.

 _Alone. Underworld. Alone._

 _Forever._

Suddenly, Jim realized his mistake. "Oh my god – no. No I didn't – Wen – "

Wendy ran. She heard Jim chasing her and ran harder. Halfway down the hall, he grabbed her arm.

"Wen – don't – "

She pulled away. Blindly stumbling into her room she closed the door, but Jim blocked it.

"Wendy!" Jim's arm darted inside. Frantically, he seized her wrist. "Wendy don't do this! Listen! Wendy don't shut the – "

Wendy shoved. Jim cried out as she slammed the door and locked it tight.

* * *

 **...**

 **Big4girl poem:**

 ** _Damn, Damn what did I do? I'm an idiot and I'm sure she won't let me through. Though I can read her like a book with every teeny look, I can't believe she loves that scumbag, I remember when he used to treat her like a drag. I know every tear shed, heart bled, crying out loud moment over him. A crush is like a bomb breaking at the rim and I couldn't stop it no matter how much I tried, but am I like him…have I done a sin…ooh that's makes me mad, I'm nothing like him, nothing like Sinbad._**

 **...**


	47. Chapter 47: Little Sister

**Chapter 47: Little Sister**

"Wendy? Wendy, it's Michael."

"And John."

"Can we come in?"

Wendy gazed at the ceiling. She'd taken refuge on her bed, and although she disproved of the dramatics, it somehow seemed safest to cry into her pillow. When her pillow was damp, she'd lain on her back –wet dress and all – and stared blankly at the ceiling. It didn't help, she still felt horrible, but the silence was comforting.

"Wendy?" John repeated. Wendy could envision him checking his watch. "Wendy it's Michael and John. Could you open the door?"

"We're not going to yell." Michael added quickly. "Just...want to make sure you're okay."

Guiltily, Wendy pressed her forehead. _Of course. They'd heard the argument. She and Jim had been shouting by the end. Dreadful. Inconsiderate._

Wendy did not want to talk. But she owed them an apology.

"Shadow." Wendy said mutely. "Could you...?"

Grumpily the shadow unlocked the door. As John and Michael entered, it swooped back under the bed. G _reat. MORE people, taking MORE of Wendy's time – puh._

"Hi." Michael said, lying beside her. The mattress bumped as John did the same. Michael snuggled. John crossed his legs and read the business report. "You okay?"

Immediately, Wendy donned a motherly tone.

"You two should be in bed."

"We were." John said, turning the paper and licking his thumb. "Sound asleep."

"John goes to bed at 7:51..." Michael made air quotes. " _On the dot_."

"Early to bed, early to rise..." John muttered, straightening the paper with a flick. "All that good stuff."

Wendy sighed. "I'm sorry we woke you. I...I didn't mean to shout."

John half smiled. "Mmhm."

Wendy glanced over. "What does _that_ mean?"

John looked over his glasses. "Wendy, out of all us, you have the temper."

"Me?"

Gravely, Michael nodded. "It's true. Just like..."

They all thought. They all remembered. They all moved a little closer together.

"...father." Wendy finished. It was true. Agonizing. But true. Their father had intoxicated himself to drown a broken heart. He'd been irritable. He'd been short tempered. He'd been...violent.

Wendy closed her eyes. Painfully she acknowledged the comparison. "I have a temper...like father."

Apologetically Michael cuddled. But John, buried behind his newspaper, _humphed_ impatiently.

"Well if we're going to get all _cerebral_ about your flaws, why stop there? Let's keep going, it's the intelligent thing to do. Let's see – ah. You are annoyingly nurturing. Made us eat our vegetables and drink our milk."

"Like mommy." Michael said.

"You've an infuriating imagination." John continued. "Which is maddening because you have the ability to switch between fantasy and logic faster than a light switch."

"Like mommy." Michael said.

"Don't get me started on your _conviction_!" John ruffled his paper. "Unbreakable morals! Stubborn as a mule! You forced us down the straight and narrow so many times, we're shaped like pencils!"

"Like mommy." Michael said.

John tapped his paper for each descriptor. "Sickeningly sweet – "

"Like mommy." Michael said.

"Loyal to a fault – "

"Like mommy." Michael said.

"Gaudy blue eyes – "

"Like mommy Michael said.

"And –" Jim spoke from the doorway. " – too pretty for a little sister."

Wendy stiffened. Accusingly she looked at Michael and John.

"Sorry." Michael apologized. Meekly, he crawled off the bed. "Jim said you wouldn't let him in."

Wendy rolled on her side, turning her back to Jim. "On purpose."

"Jim just wants to talk." John assured. He glanced strictly at Jim to confirm. "Roger that? No yelling."

Jim entered softly. "No yelling. Sorry you had to hear that."

John clicked his tongue, regarded Jim. Deciding he was sincere, John folded his paper and kissed Wendy neatly on the head. "Good night, Wendy."

Wendy nodded, still a little piqued they'd tricked her for Jim's benefit.

Michael ducked behind the bed. When he reemerged, he held out a patchy, old teddy bear.

"Remember Mr. Bear?"

Weakly Wendy smiled. Accepting the teddy bear, she returned Michael's hug.

"Night Wendy." Michael patted the bear. "He'll protect you from nightmares. Love you."

Again Wendy nodded. It was childish, but she squeezed the bear into her stomach – and felt better.

"Night Jim." Michael said. "No more screaming. Promise?"

Jim held Michael's head against his chest. He scratched his hair. "I promise. Thanks again. Night Chief."

Michael left. His footsteps padded down the hallway, and disappeared.

Silence followed. Wendy glared at the window, still facing away from Jim.

Jim sat at the edge of her bed. Gently, he rubbed her hip.

"Your dress is still wet."

She didn't answer.

"You cold?"

Again, she didn't answer.

Jim sighed. Long, hollow, and painful.

"Wen. I am _so_ sorry."

Wendy clenched Michael's teddy bear. And her anger cracked.

"I – " she blinked aside tears. "I was horrid."

"Yeah." Jim agreed, rubbing her shoulder. "But me more. Wen I – I didn't mean any of that. The dress...about being alone. I didn't mean that."

Wendy shuddered. "I know. But it's true. We're leaving in two days. And – I just wanted – to spend time – with...I just wanted him to like – so he'd remember me when we –"

Wendy covered her mouth. She turned into her pillow, ashamed for Jim to see her cry.

"Oh no. Come on." Jim eased Wendy over. Gently, he guided her upright. "Come on Wen, stop crying. Don't cry. Look at me. Come on, look at me right here."

She did. And she was surprised. Jim looked...afraid.

"Wen...Wen if you were in trouble. If Pan was..." Jim begged her with eyes. "Wen you would tell me. Right?"

Wendy gazed. And suddenly it hit her – Peter wanted more. It wasn't enough to be engaged. It wasn't enough to share innocent moments together. Peter wanted to make love. He was biting at the chomp, raging like a bull, and ticking like a bomb. He was so crazed with passion, that he had attacked her at the slightest – the SLIGHTEST – indication.

Peter was ready. Wendy did not know if she was.

But, she knew who was _not_ ready. And until he was, she would never be. She... _couldn't_ be.

"Jim." Wendy whispered. "Why don't you like Peter?"

Jim was quiet. Pensive, even. The consequence of the question was enormous. Wendy expected an abrasive answer, a profane response. But Jim astounded her.

"Because when Peter hurts you...I'm not sure if he cares you cry."

Silence.

"But..." Wendy finally managed. "Peter wouldn't hurt me – "

"But he _has_." Jim breathed. "Wendy he _has_. I was there, I had to watch, I listened to you cry. When he embarrassed you in school – when he mocked your stories – when he hunted you in the War Games – when his shadow was eating your mind – when you were strangled in the pool...under the water ...and he was _laughing_."

Emphatically, Jim took her hands.

"Whenever you're near him I just – get sick. It's like all those times I couldn't protect you but I could see you were in pain, and I could see you were scared. But I couldn't do _anything_ but watch."

Wendy shook her head. "Jim. Peter won't. He won't hurt me."

"Wendy..."

"He _won't_. He promised. "

"Has he ever apologized for making you cry?"

Wendy stopped. She thought back. "N-no."

"Has he ever prayed? Gotten down on his knees to thank _whoever_ or _whatever_ that someone like you cares for someone like him?"

"I...not that I know – "

Jim squeezed.

"Wendy. Has he ever said _I love you_?"

A bullet. Straight through her heart.

She thought...she searched...she remembered.

"No."

Jim took her cheek before she could turn away.

"I'm not trying to hurt you." he said. "But Wendy, listen to me now. I am your brother. I am your best friend. And I promise: if Peter touches you – I am going to kill him."

Jim spoke plainly. But Wendy knew he was deadly serious.

"Jim..." she whispered. "Jim. Peter and I...we're enga –"

Suddenly, the window latch creaked.

"We interrupting?"

Peter floated outside, Ariel on his hip. Ariel had dressed, but she looked remorseful as the moment Wendy discovered her half naked in the bathroom. Peter's vest and trousers were drenched as Wendy's dress, but he was staring lethally at Jim.

"Come on." Peter dropped Ariel inside. "Ariel get your trident. You two – put on clothes. We've got to go clubbing at _Tiana's Palace_."

Jim almost retaliated, but caught Ariel's urgent nod.

"Why?" he asked.

Peter's eyes flickered between Jim and Wendy. He scowled.

"Flynn got a text from Merida and Robin. They just got back from the Otherland. Something fishy is up. Flynn thinks we should hear what Merida and Robin have to say. Besides..."

Peter's scowl deepened. "I need a drink."

* * *

 **...**

 **Big4girl poem:**

 _ **Little sister, little sister, well listen here mister. I could be grown up if I wanted to be, so sit right here and listen to me. I love you and you love me, in the brotherly sisterly way it was meant to be. I love you, you love me, but it just has to be. Peter and I, now please try, not to kick his bottom, or punch his face. But Peter and I have love to trace…so please Jim let me be with him…**_

 **...**


	48. Chapter 48: Cold Shoulder

**Chapter 48: Cold Shoulder**

 _Ding!_

Mrs. Potts bopped the kitchen timer. Dusting chocolate powder on a towelette (she'd NEVER dirty her apron! _Cleanliness was next to godliness_!), she announced to the royal kitchen:

"Nine o'clock on the spot! He should be here in five – four – three - two – "

Expectantly the servants turned. Their spirits lifted as King Arthur entered the doorway.

"Hello everyone." Arthur smiled. He was tired – they could tell. But the young king smiled like it was Christmas morning. "Mind if I come in?"

"Of course!" they replied (their answer was always the same). "Please Your Majesty! Be our guest!"

"It's Arthur." Appreciatively Arthur sat at the center island. "And thank you."

"Always a pleasure, Your Majesty!"

And it _was_ 'always a pleasure.' King Arthur had been visiting since his coronation, and he was a little ray of sunshine. Eager for companionship and a pleasant conversationalist, he passed every night in the company of his servants. Just talking. Just chatting. Just spending time.

"Have a gingersnap Your Majesty!" Mrs. Potts set a steaming tray before him. The smell was divine. "I know they're your favorite! Come on, eat up, up, up! You're never too old for cookies!"

Arthur offered a chair. "Will you have one with me?"

"My, my certainly not Your Majesty! Eat up! Spit spot!"

Arthur indulged. The cookie was so good, he indulged again. "Wonderful Mrs. Potts. Thank you."

"Too skinny! Let's fill those robes!" Happily, Mrs. Potts poured a glass of milk. "Growing boys need lots of sugar! Oh my! Your Majesty that looks like an interesting book! What's it's name, then?"

Arthur wiped his mouth. Quickly licking cookie crumbs from his fingers (Mrs. Potts had rules about crumbs in her clean kichen), he read the title aloud. "' _A Didactic Critique of Political Frameworks and International Dialogues as Pertaining to the Establishment of Successful Warfare_.' Merlin said I should read it."

"Entertaining, is it?"

"Um, there are strong points. Interesting. Worth consideration. I'm still taking notes. Mrs. Potts, how is Chip? Does he like high school?"

The visit passed typically. King Arthur's social calls never surpassed an hour, but they were delightfully spent. Chef Loui (the _chef de cuisine_ ) explained the difference between sauté, pan fry, and stir fry; Grimsby (the head butler) detailed his plans to upgrade castle management; Winston (the chauffeur) told stories of his younger race-car days; Lumiere (the suavest servant) performed candle light tricks; and Mrs. Potts did not let Arthur leave until he'd finished half the plate of cookies.

"Thank you everyone," Respectfully, Arthur touched his heart. "Unfortunately I have to go. Might I stop by tomorrow?"

"Of course Your Majesty! Be our guest!"

"It's Arthur." Arthur reminded. "And thank you."

"Always a pleasure, Your Majesty!"

"Take the rest of the cookies, Your Majesty!" Insisted Mrs. Potts. "I've wrapped them nicely! Just remember to eat them over a napkin or a plate!"

Gratefully Arthur accepted the brown paper bag. He considered hugging Mrs. Potts, but knew she'd object. Several ecstatic thanks were afforded instead.

"A pleasure Your Majesty." she curtsied, bonnet fluffing up and down. "Always a pleasure indeed. Now it's almost bedtime. How about a nice spot of tea for your way upstairs?"

"Oh Mrs. Potts, that would be – " Arthur paused. Rubbing the spine of his book, he considered.

"Mrs. Potts?" Arthur carefully said, a little shy by his idea. "Mrs. Potts, if it's not too much trouble…could I have hot chocolate instead? And…could I have two?"

"Two?" Lumiere glowed like a candelabra. "Two hot chocolates on a starry night? _Oui, oui_. Is that romance I smell in the air?"

The king's ears turned pink. Lumiere was scolded by Mrs. Potts, and King Arthur was waved goodbye – two mugs of hot chocolate with extra marshmallows in his hands.

The corridors were dim, but Arthur navigated them effortlessly. A fast learner, Arthur had memorized every stairwell, every nook, and every corner of the castle. Sardonically, Arthur laughed to himself. He knew this castle better than the pathway to his front step; if he were plunked in the outside world, he'd surely get lost!

The corridors opened into an elaborate chamber. The ceiling was high, the windows were tall, and a crystal chandelier twinkled like a giant snowflake.

Breathing deep, Arthur approached a curved-top door. The lock was icy. The panel glittered with frost. Balancing the hot chocolate mugs between his elbow and chest, Arthur knocked on Elsa's door.

A voice spoke behind him.

"Are you looking for me?"

Arthur almost dropped the hot chocolate. Saving the fall, he dropped his book instead.

"Elsa." Swiftly Arthur stooped. As he snatched his book, Mrs. Pott's cookies fell. On his second attempted, the book _and_ cookies fell. Cursing his clumsiness Arthur knelt a third time, juggling the conglomerates in his arms.

Elsa politely did not comment. Calmly, she waited for Arthur's response.

"I – um." Awkwardly, Arthur stood. Flush with embarrassment, he noticed Elsa's causal attire: white jeans, seafoam heels, blue top, chandelier earrings. Atypical – castle residents usually wore traditional garb (tunics, gowns and such).

"Elsa. I - "

Elsa repeated her question. "Are you looking for me?"

"Yes." Arthur said, regaining his composure. "Yes I was – "

"Good. I was looking for you."

"You -?" Arthur was taken aback. "You were? Well, that's _great!_ "

Genuinely happy, Arthur _chinked_ the hot chocolate mugs together. "I brought hot chocolate. It's a clear night, and I thought we could go to Merlin's observatory. It should be nice. We could stargaze, talk about the wed – "

"I would like to go out."

Arthur stopped. _Go out? Like a date? He'd never done that before, but if Elsa wanted to…why not!_

A little flummoxed, but still happy, Arthur shrugged. "All right. We could go out. It's a little late but I think we could – "

"I would like to go out _alone_." Elsa gestured across her outfit. "My sister, Anna, is taking her husband to _Tiana's Palace_ tonight. Prince Ali is performing. I wanted to join them."

Arthur lowered the mugs. The marshmallows bobbed sadly as he spoke.

"I…well. Yes of course, but…are you feeling well enough?"

Elsa double blinked. "I'm sorry?"

"Are you feeling well enough?"

"I'm confused."

"This morning. Prior to my Round Table meeting with the guardians." Arthur peered. "You felt ill?"

Elsa was emotionless, but her clasped hands twitched. Frost spiraled over the floor, and a chill suddenly swept over Arthur's neck. Arthur turned. It almost felt like icy fingers had reached under his collar.

"I…am feeling better." Elsa indicated to the frost. "I am a snow queen after all. I recover from _colds_ quickly. So – I would like to go out. May I?"

Arthur shifted from the frost. Elsa had complained earlier of a stomach ache, but he refrained from mentioning.

"Elsa." Arthur said. "You don't need my permission to go out. Fantasia is your home. This castle is your home. As long as you are safe you can go wherever – "

"Agent Bubbles ordered that I not leave this castle." Elsa resentfully snipped. "So written authorization from you would help."

Arthur bit his lip. "Elsa…" he began. "It's late. Really it's quite late. Maybe we could just –"

"Written authorization from you – " Elsa repeated. "— _would_ _help_."

Again, a chill prickled Arthur's neck. Elsa stared at him, hard as ice.

"Of – of course." Wordlessly, Arthur crouched. Retrieving a pencil from his bookmarked page, he scribbled on Mrs. Pott's paper bag. Tearing the inscription free, he handed it to Elsa.

"There. Little sloppy. Some cookie crumbs there. But it says _By Order Of the King_ and all that. So…it should work."

Elsa read. Nodding, she pocketed the authorization note. "Thank you. Goodnight."

Arthur watched her go.

"Good ni – Elsa! Elsa wait!"

Elsa turned. Starlight shimmered through the window, covering her like a veil. Arthur was suddenly struck by Elsa's beauty and her regality.

"Elsa." Gripping Excalibur, Arthur squared himself before her. Deeply earnest, he spoke. "Elsa, I know this happened unfairly fast. And I know that I am not the one…you wish to marry. But in two days – in two days – "

Helplessly, Arthur reached for her hands. "Elsa. I _want_ to spend time with you. I want us to be together. More than we have."

Ice bristled under Elsa's fingertips.

"Is that an _order_?"

Arthur felt the ice cut into his palm. Regardless, he squeezed harder.

" _No_ Elsa. _No_. It is my _wish_ – not my command. I would never force you to do something against your will."

Elsa withdrew her hands. "Except marry you."

Arthur stared. He was frozen. He had no response.

Stonily, Elsa curtsied. "Goodnight, Your Majesty."

As Elsa departed, Jack Frost looked back. Hand in hand with Elsa, he turned sadly as King Arthur whispered into the empty hall.

"Goodnight. Lady Elsa."

* * *

 **...**

 **Big4girl poem:**

 ** _How could I be so stupid? She's never cared for me! Can't I see? She never has, never will love me. But why, then does it hurt so much! I long for a grasp, a care, a loving touch. I wish I could see, but her feelings are clear, I wish I could find someone, soon, here. But who would that be? For no one cares that much for me…I wish someone would love me, and the I would be….happy…_**

 **...**


	49. Chapter 49: Die Young

**Chapter 49: Die Young**

Merida and Robin were filthy. Merida and Robin were bruised. Merida and Robin were exhausted.

Merida and Robin were _starving_.

Robin sat. "I'll have the Cajun meatball appetizer, two orders of curly fries, side of nacho cheese mixed with barbecue sauce, the chili dog special with extra meaty chili, a double decker bacon cheeseburger raw to medium rare, a benya for dessert, and _Guinness_ on the rocks."

Merida sat. "I'll have the Swiss meatball appetizer, two orders of onion rings, side of ketchup mixed with ranch dressing, the chili dog special with extra spicy chili, a double decker bacon cheeseburger well done to charred, a benya for dessert, and _Guinness_ on the rocks."

The guardians blinked. Flynn and Rapunzel double blinked.

Peter shrugged. "I'll have a beer."

Jim frowned at Peter. Glancing at Wendy, he returned to the waitress. "Three cokes for us."

"And milk!" Flynn patted Rapunzel's baby bump. "White for the lady, chocolate for me. High in calcium! Extra frothy!"

Rapunzel giggled. They squished noses. "Oh Eugene!"

Peter rolled his eyes good-naturedly. Merida and Robin looked slightly repulsed. Rapunzel and Flynn glowed. Their unborn child did a little happy dance.

The waitress was unaffected. This was _Tiana's Palace_ – she saw all types. Apathetically she headed for the kitchen station. "Kronk, order on table three. Ya got all that honey?"

Robin clunked his compound bow on the table. Merida propped her quiver in the adjacent chair. Removing their masks (yes, they wore superhero masks), they high fived.

"Shirked death again. Sock it to me!"

Blindly, Merida and Robin ran through their secret handshake. Although the sequence was normally performed in standing, they modified without thinking – right down to the hip bump and butt slap.

Flynn smiled. "It never gets old."

Their drinks arrived.

"One beer, three cokes, two _Guinness_ , and two milks –" Unenthusiastically the waitress set their drinks. "On the house. Compliments of the head chef."

"Tiana?" Jim verified.

"She says hello."

"Oooo! Tell her thanks!" Rapunzel bounced in her seat. Toasting, she and Flynn drank. "Tell her thanks a bunch!"

The waitress watched Rapunzel and Flynn. "Are they like this all the time?"

They looked. Rapunzel and Flynn were dabbing each other's milk mustaches

"I'm living with them." Peter pretended to shoot himself. "Pretty much."

The waitress spoke behind her pad. " _Bless_ you all for coming out in public."

And it was public. Very public. _Tiana's Palace_ was a dining extravaganza. Imagine the swankiest joint, the brassiest music, and the zestiest food – _that_ was _Tiana's Palace_. A five star family restaurant by day and electric dance club by night, _Tiana's Palace_ was the ' _bee's knees_ ,' the ' _kipper's knickers_ ,' the ' _cat's whiskers_ ,' the ' _snake's hips_ ,' the PLACE TO BE!

Currently, _Tiana's Palace_ was bursting at the seams – Prince Ali was performing, and his adoring fans were 'inside-out-and-bouncing-off-the-ceiling.' It was a mad house. Lots of dancing. Lots of screaming. Lots of poor decision making. Lots of Prince Ali love.

The guardians had doubted whether _Tiana's Palace_ was appropriate for a secret meeting. However, Flynn was adamant, and Merida and Robin were not budging until they had eaten.

So, the decision was made, and the guardians waited as Merida and Robin inhaled their food.

"By the way…" Robin said, nose in his curly fries. "Nice to see you all again."

Merida gave a thumbs up behind her cheeseburger. "Ye all look like Hell!"

Pleasantly, Ariel cocked her head. _Thanks?_

Jim tried to get down to business. "Guys, what did you want to tell us – "

"Dude! Chillax!" Flynn ordered a second round of milk. "Let them eat!"

"Aye!" Merida agreed, draining her _Guinness_.

"Mmmmmhmph!" Robin nodded, marinating in his meatballs.

Peter popped his beer cap. "Take your time! We're in no rush." Laying an arm across Wendy's chair, Peter leisurely rubbed her sweater. As he swigged the beer Wendy stiffened, but she did not speak.

Jim and Ariel exchanged looks. _IS HE STUPID?_ Sadly Ariel shook her head. Jim began reprimanding Peter just as Merida and Robin burped.

"Ah! Okayyyyy. I'm good for round one…." Robin pushed aside his dinner. Contentedly he stretched. "Merida? Might as well talk as we digest?"

"Aye." Merida picked at her onion rings. "It's totally bombers how yer appetite goes down the drain after not eatin anything but squirrels for a few months."

Ariel silently laughed. She stomped her trident. _Squirrels?_

"Regrettably." Robin said. "For the past six months, we've been living off nuts, berries, and indigestible squirrels. The Otherland is an empty banquet."

"What's up with the Otherland, anyway?" Jim said, turning a baneful glare from Peter. "Flynn said you had something to tell us."

"Aye." Merida said, scrunching her hair. "It could be nothin. It could be something. But since ye all have _mysteriously_ arrived in Fantasia, Robin and I think a reconnaissance is in order."

Peter scratched behind his ear. "Reconnaissance?"

"It means to scout for information." sneered Jim.

"I know what it means!" spit Peter.

"He knows what it means!" supported Flynn.

"Boys!" Wendy suddenly snapped. She moved from Peter's arm. "Stop bickering, _please_. We're not going to get anywhere if you don't let them talk."

Ariel thumped her trident. _Girls rule. Boys drool._ She attempted a smile at Wendy. Wendy did not reciprocate.

"Robin, Merida?" Wendy said. "Why the reconnaissance?"

Robin and Merida scanned the restaurant, scoping for spies. Determining that the coast was clear, they continued.

"The Vikings are amassing." said Robin. "Know anything about the Vikings? No? Hm, Merida how do I explain it? Well, the Vikings are a band of thwarty peoples. They live in Berk. Berk is an island in the middle of Dragon Country. And the Vikings _train_ _dragons_."

"They have armies of dragons." Merida picked up. " _Hoards_. All te themselves. And a little while ago, Robin I noticed that the dragons were gathering. They're not movin, they're not striking – they're just…. _gathering_. It's almost like the Vikings are loading a cannon before they actually shoot."

Peter frowned. "You think the Vikings are prepping to attack Fantasia?"

Robin and Merida sucked their cheeks.

"We…didn't think so at first." Robin began. "But…circumstances suddenly changed. You see, last night we met a Viking. He was young , about our age, badly wounded, and very….oh how do I say this? He was very _aggrieved_ with Fantasia."

Merida snorted. She chewed an onion ring. "Very."

"This young Viking," Robin continued. "Accused Fantasia of murdering The King of the Otherland. It was confusing – something about waiting 100 years, something about the king's lady, something about a magical sword, something about rising back to power…."

"The point though," said Merida. "Is that a hoachin' load of strange things are happenin' at the same time. _First_ : the Vikings amass their dragons. _Second_ : we meet a young Viking that hates Fantasia. _Third_ : you all – the guardians – are mysteriously called back."

Shrugging, Merida wiped grease from hands. "Itsa messy bunch of coincidences. We thought ye'd want te know."

Peter fingered his bottle neck. Wendy made a pensive noise. Ariel tapped her foot. Jim probed Ariel's knee.

"How long ago did you say the dragons started gathering?" Jim finally asked.

"Fortnight."

"Peter." Jim glanced derisively. "That means two weeks."

"Son of a - "

"Is that normal Viking behavior?" Wendy interrupted, vexed by the bickering. "Do Vikings use dragons to attack anybody? Say other regions of the Otherland?"

Ariel wrote on a napkin. **Have you told King Arthur?**

Robin answered all their questions at once. "Vikings raid with dragons, yes. Five years ago, Berk mastered the art of training dragons. So their warfare is typically (if not exclusively) accomplished with dragons. Therefore, this behavior is not… _unprecedented_. It's only _coincidental_. That is why Merida and I decided to tell you, afore King Arthur."

"And that – " Merida added. "—is why we think Peter should go on a reconnaissance mission."

"Whoaaaa! Hold your arrows Merida!" Peter hammered his beer bottle like a gavel. "What do you mean ' _Peter'_ should go on a reconnaissance mission?"

"And yet he _knows_ what 'fortnight' and 'reconnaissance' mean…" Jim muttered.

"Yer the Skyworld guardian." Merida wiggled her hand overhead. "Dragons fly in the sky…Isn't that kinda yer territory?"

"Well _yeah_ but…" Peter glanced at Wendy. "How long are we talking here? We've only got two more days in Fantasia, and if the Vikings aren't _actually_ attacking then I don't see the point of wasting my time with a reconnaissance mission!"

"That's why you _go_ on a reconnaissance mission, moron." Jim said. "You scout for information to find out if the Vikings are _going_ to attack."

"Fine!" Peter fluffed his hands. "Then you go. You've got your flying tricycle!"

"Antigravity bike, and they didn't ask me they asked _you_. You're the flying wonder, remember? My bike works best in space – no wind velocities, no sudden gusts. You can cover more ground than I can. Plus – you're little."

Peter almost jumped out of his skin. " _Pardon et MOI_?"

"Littler than my bike." Jim clarified. "You're little so you can _sneak. Sneaking_ should be _NO_ problem for you, especially since you get to mess with someone else's life."

"Repeat that for me Rat Tail?"

"You heard me. You're a _sneak_."

"How about I sneak right up your – "

"Boys!" Wendy grabbed her temples. The shadows around the table quivered. "Stop it! Quiet time – both of you!"

"Quiet time?" Peter pointed at Jim. "This yo yo – "

"I said quiet!" Wendy ordered. "Not a word from either of you! You sit and behave like gentlemen while Ariel and I sort this out!"

Flynn laughed. "Little spitfire you got there Pete – "

"Flynn!" Wendy said. "That goes for you too!"

"Oh uh. Yes ma'am. Shutting up."

Rapunzel applauded. Smiling, Ariel flicked Jim's ear.

"Ow! What was that – "

"Jim! Absolute silence!"

 _Made ya talk!_ Ariel mischievously mouthed as she and Wendy mapped out the details for Peter's possible reconnaissance.

The decision making process was brief. Still disproving of the night's proceedings, Wendy was brusque with Ariel. A little embarrassed herself, Ariel glossed over Wendy's curtness and the girls devised a simple plan.

"All right." Wendy spread a napkin on the table. "This is the plan. It's practical, it's straightforward, and it is _not_ open for debate. Peter will go on the reconnaissance mission tomorrow. That way, if the Vikings are planning to attack, we can give King Arthur full notice before his wedding. Ariel will tell King Arthur our plan. Jim and I will watch for Peter's return, and be ready to assist if he needs help – "

Jim raised a finger. "Permission to speak."

Wendy put a hand on her hip. "Go on."

"I'd like to check out the ocean." Jim said. "Quick run as far as my bike will go. Just as a precaution. Just to check."

Ariel frowned. She tapped her trident.

Wendy understood. "Why not have Ariel go? Seaworld is her realm. You can deliver the message to King Arthur. Or I can."

Jim shook his head. "No. I want to check the ocean."

"Why?"

Jim didn't move. But when he spoke, his voice was _extremely_ , _deathly_ calm.

"Sinbad invaded Fantasian waters."

Wendy was thunderstruck. "He…"

Jim's jaw clenched, warning her not to speak sympathetically.

"Well." Professionally, Wendy cleared her throat. "Would you like me to go with you?"

Jim considered. "Maybe. Backup."

Peter pulled his face. Fingers snapping, he raised a hand.

"Yes Peter?" Wendy tiredly said.

Peter publically announced. "I would just like everyone to know how stupid I think this ALL DAY WASTE OF MY TIME reconnaissance mission is!"

"Lovely." Wendy said. She turned to Flynn. "Flynn – your hand was up?"

Flynn lowered his arm. "I was just going to order more milk."

"Fine." Wendy smoothed her hair. It was late. On top of her nightmares, the dramatics of the evening, and the late hour, she was exhausted. "Anyone else?"

"Yeah." Disgruntled, Peter flagged the waitress. "I need another flipping beer."

Wendy bristled. Biting her lip, she addressed Merida and Robin. "Does that plan work?"

"Good as gold." Robin said. Deftly, he and Merida gathered their leftovers. "Merida and I are going to tuck in for the night. We're heading back to the Great Wall tomorrow morning. Peter – we'll see you there?"

"Super." Peter scowled, unplugging his beer. "Can't freaking wait."

"We better get going too." Flynn held Rapunzel's coat. "Sleeping for two! Mommy and the baby! Aren't we wittle baby! Yes we are! Yes we are! Googly goo! Googly oogly goo!"

Peter mumbled into his beer. "I'm going to throw up."

Flynn smooched Rapunzel's tummy. "Pete? You coming?"

"Later. Gonna stay a bit."

"Okay. We'll leave the key someplace you can't find it."

"Solid. Night guys."

"Night!" Rapunzel waved. "Night, night!"

"Hey Wen." Jim motioned after Rapunzel, and Flynn. "Why don't you see them to the door? Make sure they get out all right."

Peter lowered his beer. " _See them to the door_? Rat Tail she's not the maid – "

"Yes! All right." Abruptly, almost _gratefully_ , Wendy stood. She strode briskly after Rapunzel and Flynn. "Be back."

Peter frowned. But as he stared after Wendy, Jim and Ariel wacked him aside the head.

"OW! Geeze!" Shocked, Peter nursed his ear. "What the heck was that for?"

Ariel soundlessly groaned. Jabbing Peter with her trident, she seized his beer.

"Hey!" Peter grabbed as Ariel held the beer out of reach. "What's the matter with you – "

"Are you stupid?" Jim interjected. "Don't drink that in front of Wendy!"

"Huh?" Peter grabbed again. "Why? She's twenty one!"

Jim growled. "Her _Dad_ you moron."

"….ahgg."

Peter sat. Guiltily he found Wendy. She was avoiding the table, taking much too long with goodbyes.

"Her dad." Painfully, Peter remembered. He remembered abusing Mr. Darling in _Tony's Restaurant_ , and mocking Wendy before her intoxicated father. He remembered forcing off Wendy's clothes, and finding bruises on her pale body. The bruises that her father left following a drunken rage.

 _How could he have forgotten?_

"Ahhhhhhg." Peter scrunched his hair. "Ahhhg boy. I am _not_ doing a good job! Why didn't she _say_ something?"

"It's Wendy." Jim said. "Not her nature."

"Ahhhhhhg." Peter self-criticized again. "She hates me. She hates me. Oh god she freaking hates me."

Jim considered agreeing, but Ariel gave a stern head shake. Setting aside the beer, she compassionately rubbed Peter's shoulder.

But Peter recovered quickly.

"Well!" he bounced up. "Guess I better apologize. _Geezum_ Pan! _Duh_! Oh well. Luckily for me we're in a dance club!"

"Dance club?" Jim turned. "Pan, a freaking dance is not going to solve – "

"Shut up!" Peter jogged after Wendy. "And leave it to me."

Fortunately for Peter, Ariel slid Jim into his seat.

"She won't." Jim muttered as Peter eased Wendy to the dance floor. "No way she's in the mood for – "

"Okay!" Aladdin (Prince Ali) puffed into his microphone. Lights strobed over his backwards rapper cap. "Request from my boy, Pan the Man and his little lady! Fantasia hit it up for one of my personal favorites – 'GONNA DIE YOUNG!'"

The audience squealed. Peter waved. And gradually, although her heart wasn't in it, Wendy dragged into the dance as Aladdin sang.

 _"I hear your heart beat to the beat of the drums._

 _Oh, what a shame that you came here with someone._

 _So while you're here in my arms—_

 _Let's make the most of the night like we're gonna die young!"_

Ariel nestled on Jim's shoulder. Together they watched Peter loosen Wendy's spirits.

Jim sighed. "She's killing me."

Ariel grinned. Tilting up, she circled Jim's chest. _It's good for her._

"I guess." Jim consented. Stroking Ariel's hair, he caught Wendy's eye.

But I worry." Jim continued as Wendy immediately looked away. "She gets too involved. She stitches her heart right on top of someone else's. And when they tear away…her heart is the one that rips."

Sighing again, Jim kissed Ariel's head. "I don't know how many more times she can take getting hurt."

Ariel contemplated. Suddenly, reaching into Jim's pocket she dug out her underwear.

 _Ha!_ Ariel lashed the underwear like a whip. Giggling she battered Jim's face. _Were you going to KEEP these?!_

Smiling, Jim caught her wrist. "So?"

Ariel laughed. She laughed so happily, it was almost out loud. Almost – but not quite.

Rambunctiously, she stuffed the underwear down Jim's shirt.

"AHhh-ah! Okay, okay! Okay tiger! Okay!" Jim tipped his chair back. Ariel leaned with him, and sealed with a kiss.

The song continued, perhaps a little more robust.

 _"Young hearts, out our minds,_

 _Running 'til we outta time!_

 _Wild child's lookin' good,_

 _Living hard just like we should!_

 _Don't care who's watching when we tearing it up!_

 _That magic that we got nobody can touch!"_

Jim rubbed Ariel's cheek. She smiled, waiting for him to speak.

 _"Looking for some trouble tonight,_

 _Take my hand, I'll show you the wild side!_

 _Like it's the last night of our lives,_

 _We'll keep dancing 'til we die!"_

"Ariel." Jim held her hands. "Ariel. About before…what you wished for…are you sure?"

Ariel kissed his fingers. Eyes twinkling, she looked up. _Are you?_

Jim rose. He wrapped Ariel in his arms.

"Yeah. _Yes_. Let's do it."

They left, leaving Peter and Wendy to finish the song.

 _"I hear your heart beat to the beat of the drums._

 _Oh, what a shame that you came here with someone._

 _So while you're here in my arms—_

 _Let's make the most of the night like we're gonna die young!"_

 _..._

 _"I hear your heart beat to the beat of the drums._

 _Oh, what a shame that you came here with someone._

 _So while you're here in my arms—_

 _Let's make the most of the night like we're gonna die young!"_

 _..._

 _"Let's make the most of the night like we're gonna die young."_

* * *

 **...**

 **Big4girl poem:**

 ** _I'll make it up to her, because she loves me. Oh now she does, oh I know Wendy. So wait for me on the dance floor, so come and dance with me like we won't see each other anymore. I love you Wendy, so stay with me, rock to the beat and don't make me cheat and do this the hard way, so baby stay and be with me and don't you ever leave..._**

* * *

 **sultal's note:**

 **song credit: "Die Young" by Ke$ha.**


	50. Chapter 50: My Ex's & Oh, Oh, Oh's

**Chapter 50: My Ex's & Oh, Oh, Oh's**

Peter could have danced all night. Literally, all night. He had the energy of a supernova and the stamina of rocket fuel. Moreover, Peter had motivation: he wouldn't get to see Wendy tomorrow. So tonight had to last.

The solo reconnaissance mission to Berk sounded like an all day excursion, especially since Peter had never visited the Otherland. Peter grunted. He'd probably have to ask flying geese for directions. _Geese. Ugh. That would kill his pride._

Now, the prospect of exploring unfamiliar territory _was_ exciting. However Peter still considered Wendy unfamiliar territory (figuratively and literally). And of the two, Peter preferred Wendy.

Returning to the moment, Peter smiled. Inwardly, he congratulated himself (again) for proposing to Wendy – she was a _strange_ girl! He was having a blast trying to figure her out. In one moment she was both childish and adult – in the next moment she was both reserved and bold.

When aggravated, Wendy argued like she was one thousand feet tall. But in actuality, she was cute as a button - and somehow her cuteness intensified when she was cross. It was a vicious cycle: Wendy got mad, Peter said she looked cute, Wendy got madder, Peter said she looked cuter...

Peter grinned, remembering Wendy trying to deny her jealously at _Tony's Restaurant_. She was so cute. Sometimes he just wanted to dunk her in his coffee.

Above all, Wendy was a lady. She didn't hide it. She didn't flaunt it. She just was. ' _Act like a gentleman._ ' ' _Shadow – behave._ ' ' _I do beg your pardon._ ' ' _Quiet time – both of you!_ ' ' _That was lovely._ ' ' _Peter – you look dashing_.'

Even Wendy's mannerisms were genteel. She sat – back straight, ankles neatly tucked. She listened – silently, with intent. She spoke – politely (could her accent be _any_ primmer?). She smiled – demurely, without conceit. She greeted – with the tiniest curtsy, jut a dip. She danced – only if Peter took the lead.

Certainly, Wendy's ladylikeness _fascinated_ Peter. She was a lady – he was a jester. The two _shouldn't_ mix.

But they _were_. They were meshing, connecting, accepting, and changing for each other. Wendy was loosening her behavior; Peter was tightening his. It was amazing – Peter could _see_ it happening. It was almost... _magical_.

That was not to say Peter wanted to transform Wendy! Heck no! Peter _liked_ that Wendy was a little bit of a damsel. He actually _preferred_ it. Because, if Wendy was the damsel, then Peter was her knight in shining armor!

Not Jim.

Peter rocked Wendy against him. He squeezed her. Hard.

The ' _best friend'_ act was getting old. Actually, it was old six years ago. Peter had hoped that isolation in the Underworld would have fostered Wendy's independence. But the years apart had only _strengthened_ her dependence on Jim. Wendy relied on Jim's judgement, and Jim was overly possessive of Wendy. They read each other _fluently_ in ways Peter was only _beginning_ to understand.

Peter hugged Wendy from behind. Secretively, he scowled. Wendy's relationship with Jim made him angry. Almost jealous. And a little... _suspicious_.

"Oh!" Wendy threw back a hand. She swerved as Peter tripped. Tripping – that was unusual. "Peter are you all right?"

"Yeahp." Hastily picking up his feet Peter floated three inches above ground. "Just testing you sleepy girl!"

Wendy smiled. Her eyes were half-mast. "Long day."

Peter tapped his ear, indicating the booming surround-sound. "Again?"

"Long day!" Voice raised, Wendy pulled him through the crowd. "We should go! You have an early day tomorr – "

"No, no!" Emphatically Peter coaxed her back. "Just one more!"

"But Ariel and Jim already left – "

"Just one more!"

"But if I'm not back home, Jim will - "

Peter yanked, harder than he intended. As Wendy vaulted into him, he snapped. "Do you want to dance with me or Jim?"

Her look was scathing. Calmly, Wendy withdrew. "Let go of me."

Peter obeyed. Wendy's tone was completely clear: he was in trouble.

Irritated, Peter followed Wendy to an empty table. Without sitting she squared directly to him.

"Why did you say that?"

The music swung into upbeat lyrics. Peter snorted ironically as Aladdin sang " _My ex's and the oh, oh, oh's they haunt me! Like ghosts they want me! To make 'em all all all! They won't let go...ex's and oh's!_ "

"Say what?" he said.

"That."

"What?"

"About Jim. Why did you say that?"

Peter crossed his arms. "What, gonna tattle?"

Wendy crossed _her_ arms. "I think you're being a little childish."

"I think I'm being a _lot_ childish." Peter countered. "And I think you need to pull the plug."

"Pardon?"

Peter paused. ' _Pardon' – proper – little lady – cute. No! No Peter! Remember you are irritated! Eyes on the prize. Focus man! Focus!_

"Jim, Jim, freaking Jim." Peter perched on a chair. "Why do you follow everything he says?"

Wendy raised a brow. "I don't."

"You do."

"I don't."

"You do!" Peter said. "So for the sake of argument I'll ask again – why do you follow everything he says?"

Wendy leaned impatiently against the table. "Because he's usually right."

That threw Peter. "Because he's always _right_?"

" _Usually_ right." Wendy corrected as Peter crouched on the chair back. "Jim is cynical. He filters through problems like a meat grinder. What _usually_ results is the best solution."

Thumping his hands on the chair, Peter balanced like a gymnast on a pommel.

"Okay. So what does Tall Dark and Stormy have to say about me?"

Wendy didn't answer. Avoiding eye contact, she sat.

"Well?" Peter pressed, floating over the table. "What is _Jim Dear's_ opinion of The One and Only Pan?"

Wendy traced a napkin. "Peter - I think you and Jim should be friends."

Peter laughed out loud.

Wendy glared. "I was _not_ being funny."

"No." Peter agreed, tapping her nose. "You were being gullible. Cute. But gullible. Rat Tail and I are _never_ going to be friends."

" _Must_ you call him that?"

" _Must_ I call _him_ that?!" Scornfully, Peter laughed. "Aw, why not? He's got a little _nickname_ for you. So I made a little nickname for him – It's the first step on the LONG road to friendship. But you're his ' _best friend_.' You'd know ALL about that, _right_?"

"Peter – "

" _Right_ , Rat Tail's bestie?"

"Peter—"

" _Right_ , Rat Tail's BFF?"

"Peter stop it—"

"Right, _Wen_?"

Wendy fumed. He'd spoken her nickname mockingly, almost repulsively.

"Peter Pan." she said. " _That_ was uncalled for."

Peter bobbed off the chair. "Yeah. But it needed to be said. Okay – you ready to dance now?"

"Am I ready to dance now?" Wendy was incredulous. "Peter – _we are fighting_."

"Yes, and I think it's going _extremely_ well. Yay, first official fight. But I'm bored, you're tired – let's just kiss and make up. You and me, on the dance floor. Pronto."

Wendy gaped at his open hand.

"Unbelievable." she murmured. "You didn't even apologize."

"Well neither did you."

"Me? Why should I apologize?"

Peter took her wrist. "I'll tell you on the dance floor. Come on."

"Peter – no." Wendy twisted indignantly. "Peter we can't – _you_ can't – keep avoiding these discussions!"

"And you can't keep perseverating."

"Perseverating?"

"It means to prolong stupid conversations."

"I'm not perseverating, you started this – "

Peter sliced his hands. "Are you going to dance with me, yes or no?"

Wendy planted her feet. "No."

"No is not an option."

"Well neither is yes."

They stared, neither giving, neither bending, but both praying the other would.

Angrily Peter huffed to the dance floor. "Girls talk too much!"

Wendy glared as Peter disappeared into the audience. "Boys talk too little."

"Ha." mumbled a strange voice. "Only when we can actually be heard."

Wendy turned. The person that had spoken – a willowy, white haired boy – jumped as she looked directly into his eyes. Startled, he dropped his staff. Wendy hiked her feet as frost sputtered from the gnarled end.

"Whooooooooaaaaaaaaa." Cautiously the boy knelt. Eyes on Wendy, he retrieved his staff.

They gazed a moment. Then the boy started testing her vision. He waved a hand. He made rabbit ears. He snapped. He twirled his staff. He danced a little jig.

Wendy spared him the theatrics. "What are you doing?"

The boy lit like a blow torch.

"You can SEE me?"

Wendy looked aside. No one else seemed to notice the white haired boy.

"Yes. Are you supposed to be invisible?"

The boy practically salivated. "You can HEAR me too?"

Wendy edged back. The boy was creeping awfully close. "Yes. Are you supposed to be unheard?"

The boy beamed. Lovingly, he clamped Wendy's cheeks.

"Oh goodness what are – " Wendy gasped. The boy's fingers were ice cubes. Alarmed, she pushed. "Get off! What are you doing?"

"Sorry! Sorry it's just that..." Overcome, the boy ogled at her. "Wowwww. You can see me. This is great! You can SEE me! Wait...you _can_ actually see me, right?"

Wendy rubbed her frosty cheek. "You'll keep your hands to yourself?"

"Ha." The boy stuffed hands in his hoodie pouch. "Sure."

"Then yes." Wendy said. "I can see you."

"Well waddaya know..." The boy leaned on his staff. Smiling, he drank Wendy in. "Cool."

Wendy fidgeted. The boy was gawking as if she was on display. "Um. Do you have a name?"

"Jack Frost."

"Jack Frost?" Wendy revisited the boy's snowy white hair and magical staff. "Not – _the_ Jack Frost?"

"In person."

"As in nip your nose?"

Jack laughed. "That's what that one guy said! What was his name? Elf freak? Red hair, goofy ears, vain, amoral."

The description was faultless.

"Peter Pan?" Wendy dryly guessed.

"Yeah!" Jack invited himself to sit. " You know him?"

Wendy glanced at the dance floor. Peter was tangled somewhere in the center.

"Yes." she replied a little tartly. "Exceptionally."

Jack ground his staff. "Old girlfriend?"

Wendy paused. Again, she surveyed the audience. She wondered if Peter had found a new dance partner.

"No." she answered quietly. "New girlfriend."

Jack's eyebrows lifted. "Oh. Then you must be Peter's fiancé."

It was Wendy's turn to stare. Aside from Peter, Jack was the first person – the ONLY person – to acknowledge her engagement. No one else knew. But as Jack congratulated her, Wendy felt lighter. Jim was right: the secret was a burden. And it _was_ eating her alive.

Jack spoke. When Wendy didn't respond, he nudged her with his staff.

Wendy snapped from her revelation. "Sorry?"

"What's your name?" Jack repeated.

"Wendy."

"Wendy. That sounds familiar. Peter probably mentioned you."

"I can only imagine."

Haha! I bet. Huh. The future Mrs. Red-haired Elf Freak..." Jack flicked a beer mug. The amber liquid froze. "So how come you and Peter are the only ones that can see me?"

Wendy cuddled into Arista's knit sweater. Jack was emitting cold chills.

"I was going to ask you the same thing." she admitted, nodding at the oblivious passerby's. "No one can see you? _At all_?"

"Nope." Jack said. "Just you and Peter. You guys must have superpowers or something. Or maybe it's because you're engaged to Peter – he's a guardian after all. Maybe his powers passed to you. Did you know he was a guardian?"

Wendy warmed – just a little. "Yes. I am the Underworld guardian."

"No!" Jack grinned. "No way! One couple – two guardians?"

"Evidently."

"Aw, that's kinda cute."

"Cute is not the word." Wendy grumbled. "We hardly get to see each other. And now that we have, everyone bickers like cats and dogs. We're jumping down each other's throats, looking for the smallest imperfect – "

Wendy stopped, catching the vent.

"Anyway." she said, clearing invisible dust from the table. "We still have a lot of reacquainting to do. And we haven't much time."

Sympathetically Jack smiled. "Feels like a losing battle, huh?"

Wendy sighed. "Awfully."

"Doesn't sound much fun."

"It's not."

"I know what you mean." Jack waved his staff. "See that girl over there? The one with the white braid?"

Wendy scanned the crowd. "Elsa?" she asked, surprised. "Not Elsa? What is Elsa doing here?"

"She's with me." Jack opened his palm. Frost glowed over his skin. "Elsa can't see me – but she can _feel_ me. It's the most _amazing_ thing. Even though I'm invisible, Elsa _believes_ that I am here! I know she does! She just has to trust herself and let it go."

Almost clairvoyantly, Elsa turned. Sighting Wendy she lifted a shy hand. Then, spotting the frost at Wendy's table, Elsa waved.

Jack waved back. Snowflakes fluttered from his hand.

"See?" he said as Elsa laughed. "She _knows_. She _believes_. And she's _amazing_."

Wendy glanced between Elsa and Jack. Even though their relationship was _none_ of her concern, she couldn't help feeling defensive for King Arthur.

Evasively, Wendy spoke.

"So if you are friends with Elsa...then you must know King Arthur?"

Frost prickled over Jack's staff. "What?"

"King Arthur." Wendy repeated, unable to hide her criticism. "Elsa's _fiancé_."

Jack gripped his staff. Frost slivered between his fingers.

"It was nice meeting you Wendy." Jack finally said, rigidly leaving the table.

Wendy watched. Across the room, Jack wrapped his arm around Elsa like a scarf.

"It nice to meet you too." she said, fingering the frosted tablecloth. "Jack Frost."

"Talking to yourself, Boss?"

"Tinkerbell?"

Wendy frowned as Tinkerbell plopped beside her. Tinkerbell was the least desirable person to share her table, but Wendy decided to capitalize on the pixie's company. "Tinkerbell – did you find the drago –?"

 _Chink._

Wendy jumped. Tinkerbell had set a martini glass before her. Upon impact, the blue liquid sloshed. Instinctively, Wendy recoiled. It was _ridiculous_ – she knew her reaction was _ridiculous_ – but the alcohol scared her. She was afraid to touch it.

"Tinkerbell...?"

"Vodka martini - lemon twist." Lusciously Tinkerbell fished an olive from her own cocktail. "On me -coworker."

Carefully, Wendy touched the glass. Avoiding the spilled liquid like poison, she slid it away.

"I don't drink."

"Ohhh. Right. I forgot – your drunk daddy." Tinkerbell helped herself to Wendy's martini. "That was inconsiderate. Sorry – I just thought you might need a drink. Now that you've joined the club."

Wendy stiffened. "Club?"

Tinkerbell drained the martini. "Yeah. The _Peter Dumped Me After Sex_ Club _."_

"The – ?" Wendy was shocked. Utterly shocked. The comment was insulting as it was inappropriate. "That - that is – how _dare_ you – "

"Hey don't worry." Tinkerbell licked the rim of her glass. "You're not alone. This whole freaking restaurant is crawling with Peter's tramps. Congratulations. Welcome to the club."

"I – " Wendy shook her head. "That is _so_ offensive. _So, horribly, disgustingly_ offensive. How could you even - ?"

Tinkerbell glinted maliciously behind her cocktail glass.

"Wait. Wait a second. Oh my GAHD. Peter's not here. Peter's dancing without you." Tinkerbell set her glass. " _You_ haven't had sex."

Wendy clenched her hands. Her eyes flickered black. In the background, a nightmare was needling through her brain – trying to spark to life.

" _That_ is _none_ of your business."

"You HAVEN'T!" Tinkerbell squealed. "God – you have got to be the only girl in this restaurant that hasn't slept with Peter! OH his EX'S are everywhere! There's Arista over there – Peter banged her at Adella's sixteenth birthday party – "

"Stop it." Wendy said, her vision blinking black and white. She could feel the shadows quivering towards her. "Stop it now – "

"There's Aurora –" continued Tinkerbell. "She basically lived in Peter's bed –"

" _Stop it_."

"And Jasmine – pretty sure Peter convinced her to do tantric sex –"

 _Stop it_."

"He did like all of the mermaids – "

"Stop it!"

"ALL of the pixies – "

"Stop it!"

"And don't forget me –" Tinkerbell slithered her tongue. "Peter said I was his favorite because I could stick my tongue in the sexiest p – "

Wendy hit the table. "STOP IT!"

"Take a look around!" Tinkerbell sneered. "You're the only girl in this room that Peter hasn't had sex – "

"STOP IT NOW!" Wendy stumbled blindly from her chair. Her head was screaming, her vision was static. "You are finished! You are through! Don't EVER come back!"

Tinkerbell's smile faded. "What?"

"Don't ever come back to the Underworld!" Wendy snarled. Shakily she made for the crowd. "You are banished from the Underworld and banished as liaison! _Do. Not. Come. Back_."

Tinkerbell spit. "Fine. Looks like I'm moving to _Skyworld_."

Wendy halted. Shaking, she closed her eyes as Tinkerbell smiled.

"Temper. Temper." Tinkerbell whispered. "Just like daddy, right? Short fuse. No wonder you can't hack it in bed."

Wendy felt the shadows collapsing as they had during King Arthur's meeting. But the feeling was different. Instead of summoning the shadows, the shadows were coming for her. It felt like nightmares were scraping the inside of her skull.

Wendy staggered. Somehow she made it to the bathroom. Reliving the moment Peter unzipped her dress, she vomited into the sink.

"Ewwww."someone said.

Wendy coughed. Breathing hard, she stammered. "W-who is –"

The person – a girl – moved closer. Wendy heard bangles jingling as a hip hit the sink.

" _Nice_ skinny jeans."

Wendy wiped her mouth. "Arista?"

"Yeahhhhh." Arista slurred. She giggled, spilling red wine over her glass. "Caught cha wid my clothzzzs, bitch."

Wendy's ear's pricked. She recognized that speech – Arista was drunk.

Frightened, Wendy rose. There were several occupants in the bathroom, and their shadows shuddered as Wendy backed to the exit.

"Arista." Wendy pressed her throbbing temple. She couldn't see colors. The lights were flickering. "Arista, Ariel said – "

"Take them off."

"What?"

Violently, Arista grabbed. She yanked Wendy's sweater. "Givff me back my clothzzs!"

"Wait! Arista!" Wendy struggled. She hit the bathroom door. Nightmares sparked behind her eyes. "Arista I don't have anything underneath – "

"Good!" Savagely, Arista overturned her glass. The red wine splashed into Wendy, bleeding through the cream-knit sweater. "Go naked!"

Wendy froze. The wine soaked through the sweater and trickled onto her skin.

Arista smiled. "Now you won't smelllll like me when Peter trasshhhhhes you."

Wendy looked up.

And exploded.

* * *

 **...**

 **Big4girl poem:**

 _ **Oh, Wendy my dear! Didn't you hear? Peter's exes are everywhere, now don't stare it's rude! But you'd know all about that wouldn't you prude? I guess now that you banished me, wendy can't you see? I'll be spending more time with my bae, Peter pan the one and only.**_

 _ **...**_

* * *

 **sultal's note: The song that Aladdin is singing (and the chapter title) = "Ex's and Oh's" by Elle King**


	51. Chapter 51: Exorcist

**Chapter 51: Exorcist**

Wendy seized Arista's shadow –

– and _shred_.

Now, Wendy was a shadow worker and she followed a historical line. Before her, shadow workers manipulated shadows to possess and pervert mankind. But unlike her predecessors, Wendy feared her abilities. Therefore, she moderated them – almost to the point of neglect. Shadow working was used _only_ for protection and _only_ when necessary. Wendy had hurt Peter once – she had scalped his soul. It was a moment she would always fear. Everyday she promised _never_ to detach a shadow again.

Wendy had hoped that ignoring her powers would dilute them. But she was wrong. Her powers were almost... _rebelling._ Strange instances were growing into terrifying trends – the nightmares, the agonizing headaches, the monochromatic vision, the shadow magnetism...the loss of control.

Wendy knew _something_ was wrong. _Something_ was wrong with her brain, her neural network, her _ability_ to control the shadow-working symptoms with a happy thought. Exactly _what_ was wrong, Wendy did not know (that is another story for another time). But whatever it was, it was destroying her.

So, after an evening of fighting, wicked thoughts, and unhappy memories, Arista's blood red wine _dripping_ down Wendy's chest was the final trigger. Before she could stop, Wendy seized Arista's shadow and _shred_.

Shredding a shadow was not the same as detaching it completely. Wendy could only detach a shadow with her needle and thread – it was similar to yanking a tooth. But _shredding_ a shadow was like flossing; Wendy pulled Arista's shadow in and out, never separating, but _wringing_ the shadow for dark memories.

And she found them. Arista's worst memories burst like a nest of hornets. Wendy saw them all. She _felt_ them all.

And it petrified her.

Arista hit the floor, the whites of her eyes spinning. Wendy tried to pull away but Arista's shadow stuck to her palms. Desperately Wendy pushed the shadow, trying to fling it off like a pair of mittens, but the shadow remained.

All around, from _every_ angle people were _screaming_. Hands began grabbing with the intent of wrenching Wendy from Arista; but the second they grabbed her, Wendy felt their shadows stick. It hurt – each shadow clamped like a red hot staple into her skin.

Wendy collapsed. Through the mesh of shadows she saw people _sobbing_ as their darkest memories flowed through Wendy –humiliation, terror, failure, betrayal, death.

Entire _lifetimes_ of pain and suffering avalanched Wendy. The memories mixed with her own, twisting into grotesque hallucinations. Wendy clutched her temples. Delving into her mind, she searched for her happy thought.

 _Peter._

 _Peter._

 _Pet –_

 _'Peter's not here. Peter's dancing without you.'_

 _Tinkerbell. Tinkerbell's voice._

Wendy cringed. She squeezed her hair, trying to stop the memory. But she couldn't. It cascaded into her head.

 _'God – you have got to be the only girl in this restaurant that hasn't slept with Peter! OH his EX'S are everywhere!'_

"Stop it!" Wendy begged, clawing her eyes. "Stop it! Go away!"

Tinkerbell's smile sliced her mind.

 _And don't forget me._ _Peter said I was his favorite because I could stick my tongue in the sexiest p –_

Wendy screamed. And as she screamed she heard another voice. But it wasn't Tinkerbell's.

It was Jim's.

 _Has he ever said I love you?_

The room turned black. _Pitch black._ Every shadow injected into Wendy as she screamed.

Suddenly something cold grabbed her hand. Ice stung up her arm, through her neck, behind her ear, and into Wendy's mind. The darkness shattered into electric ice. Shadows crackled, froze, and burst from Wendy like a wintry gust.

Wendy dropped. The last thing she saw was Elsa, Jack Frost standing behind.

* * *

 **...**

* * *

"Wendy. Wendy. Wendy wake up. Come on pretty girl. Please. Just wake up."

Wendy blinked. She was propped against a knee, wedged between a leg and chest. An arm cushioned her head, hugged her shoulders, and rocked her like a baby. Someone was tapping her cheek.

"Wendy. Wendy. Wake up. It's me."

"Peter?"

The tapping stopped.

Wendy heard Peter sigh.

"Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh." Peter curled Wendy into his chest. "Ohhhh thank you."

Wendy shivered. She was freezing. Her bones were blocks of ice.

"What happened?"

"You exorcised Tiana's entire palace. That is what happened."

Wendy was pried from Peter. The person that had spoken – Kida – reclined Wendy on a rescue mat and gently opened her eyelid.

"Peter?" Wendy groped. Her vision was returning, but slowly. Images were further obscured by ambulance sirens whirling through the windows. "Peter where are – "

"I'm right here." Peter squeezed her hand. "It's okay, Kida's with Emergency Medical Services –"

"Her temperature is rock bottom. She's freezing." Kida signaled to her supervisor, Dr. Mouse. "Can I get a blanket, stat? And a reflex hammer, her DTRs are nonexistent. Oh Peter, no rubbing –! "

Peter paused. As Kida was dictating, he had massaged Wendy to keep her warm.

"But she's cold."

"Yes, but she is _too_ cold. Right now her blood vessels are pinched. If you rub, that will create heat, and _that_ will cause blood vessels in her arms to open too quickly."

"So?"

"So." Calmly, Kida removed Peter's hands. "Her blood will gush through the opened vessels unregulated. Blood pressure will decrease much to quickly – that might hurt her heart. Okay Wendy...hold still..."

Kida performed a series of tests. Wendy actually recognized most. Dr. Sweet had performed the same examination following the Battle to Take Fantasia – to test her brain, he had said. Shadows operated via unhappy thoughts. Unhappy thoughts lived inside the brain.

"Okay. Other eye..."

Wendy squinted as Kida shown a laser light at her pupil. Kida watched the pupil constrict; she assessed the opposite eye –

"Good both pupil's shrunk. Cranial nerve reflexes are back to normal." Kida turned to Dr. Mouse. "Brain is working normally again."

Dr. Mouse nodded with pompous pride. He'd trained Kida. She was a good emergency doctor – his prize student.

"Very good, aces, aces. Temperature?"

"Plateaued. 98.4."

"Which means?"

"Normal."

"Very good, very good." Dr. Mouse tapped the air. "Excellent. As I always say: _They come in with a whimper, and leave with a grin_! Well done, Kida. Well done."

Dr. Mouse patted Wendy's shoe. It was three times his size. "How'd you feel, my dear?"

Wendy recoiled against Peter. "What happened?" she repeated.

Again, Dr. Mouse tapped the air.

"Neurological suppression originating in the hypothalamic and hippocampal grey matter ganglia, culminating in mild hypothermia."

"...what?"

"You blacked out!" Cheerfully Dr. Mouse rapped her shoe. "And nearly froze!"

"Froze?" Wendy remembered the ice, shattering the shadows. "How?"

Dr. Mouse pointed. "There's your culprit. Right over there! Oh dear..."

Irritably, Dr. Mouse turned. Agent Bubbles and Captain Amelia had entered the restaurant. Captain Amelia was barking through a megaphone.

"Police! Barging into my medical examination!" Huffily, Dr. Mouse adjusted his head mirror. "Well, we'll see about that! Come along Kida! Let's not disgrace the profession!"

Kida glanced over her shoulder. Swiftly, she withdrew a blue crystal from beneath her medical uniform.

"My gift from the Wishing Star." Kida touched the crystal to Wendy's chest. Immediately, Wendy warmed. Blood rushed from her fingertips to her toes. "I'm not supposed to heal with the crystal. Dr. Mouse is very traditional. Yes Dr.! I'm coming! Wendy - stay well. Take care."

Wendy massaged her chest. Feeling the wine on her sweater, she withdrew.

Peter noticed. "Geeze. You sure know how to scare a guy to death. You okay?"

Wendy avoided the truth.

"Did I hurt anyone?"

"Um." Peter glanced. The restaurant was a mortuary. "Nope. Not a soul. Ha ha. Get it? Shadows. Soul..."

Peter trailed off. Sadly, he watched as Wendy surveyed the damage. Her eyes drifted to a couple, sobbing in each other's arms, plagued by unhappy memories. Her lip trembled. Her eyes watered.

"Aw. It's okay." Peter rubbed Wendy's hair. "Don't be upset. It was an accident. Least you're okay. Elsa froze you, the shadows stopped, and everything is fine."

"Elsa froze me?"

"Yes." Elsa appeared, Jack lagging behind. Timidly, Elsa knelt. "Sorry. I...I have a hard time controlling my powers. I didn't mean to freeze you. I just thought it might help – you know. Dark and cold. Kind of compatible."

"Very compatible." Jack murmured. Frigidly, he studied Wendy. " _Morbidly_ compatible."

Peter frowned. "Hey it wasn't her fault."

"Didn't say it was." Jack said. "Just said it was interesting."

"No. You said _morbid_."

"Tell me the difference."

"Listen _Frosty_ – we've been getting along famously so far. _Don't make me_ punch a hole through your – "

"Peter?" Elsa gaped between Peter and Jack. "Are...are you talking to _Jack_?"

"There you are!" Agent Bubbles materialized over Elsa. Elsa jumped. For such a hulking figure, Agent Bubbles was astoundingly stealthy. "Come on, Your Grace. Let's go. Back to the castle."

"Oh COME ON!" Exasperatedly, Jack knocked himself with his staff. Ice crystals bonked from his forehead. "This dude is a ninja tank! HOW does he ALWAYS find us?"

"Wait!" Elsa reached for her pocket as Agent Bubbles dragged her from the restaurant. "Wait! I have permission from King Arth – "

"Save it. Get going Your Grace."

"But I have PERMISSION!"

"I said get going."

"BUT I HAVE PERMISSION!"

"And even if she didn't – " Staff raised, Jack charged Agent Bubbles , "—she doesn't have to listen to YOU!"

Jack swung.

"Wait!" Wendy stumbled forward. Her fingers grazed Jack's shadow. "Jack don't!"

 _Spark!_ Jack lurched backwards. The image of a little girl, crying on an icy pond flashed between him and Wendy.

Jack staggered. His staff clattered to the floor.

"W-hat?" Gasping, Jack held his head. "What? _Who_ was that?"

The sirens blared. Outside, Elsa shouted for Jack. Captain Amelia suddenly cut across the wailing lights. Crouching before Wendy she spoke strictly.

"Miss Darling. Mr. Pan. Admiral Triton is on his way."

"Admiral...?" Wendy peered. Suddenly she heard Arista, cursing, howling, and demanding compensation.

Wendy's eyes widened. She clutched Peter. "Am...am I under arrest?"

Captain Amelia glanced at Arista and snorted. "I detained your father injudiciously once before, Miss. Darling, and it is a debt I am willing to repay. Miss Triton is inebriated – tomorrow she will not recall this night. So, if you want to evade the Admiral..."

Captain Amelia slunk aside, clearing their path. "...then I suggest you leave now. Go home. As far as I'm concerned – you were never here."

Peter nodded. Deftly, he helped Wendy to her feet.

"Come on pretty girl. I'll take you home."

They fled the scene, Peter supporting Wendy as her strength returned.

No one saw them depart. Not even Jack.

However, Wendy and Peter were _vivid_ in Tinkerbell's mind.

"Tink you are SUCH a bitch." Elatedly, Tinkerbell twirled around a lamppost. "Poor little Miss. Holier Than Thou...She'll either go insane because she _doesn't_ or insane because she _does_."

* * *

 **...**

 **Big4girl poem:**

 _ **Jack, I'm scared…help me please….Jack. The words rack my mind, familiar but unheard of at the same time. Is it Elsa? Someone else I know? Who was it! Who was the little girl in the snow? My head is spinning and my thoughts are wild, Elsa is gone, and I have to think for a while…**_

 **...**

* * *

 **sultal's note: So,along with the "No OC Policy" of this story. Dr. Mouse is a character from "The Rescuers Down Under." His scenes are hilarious and terrifying at the same time :P**


	52. Chapter 52: Count My Blessings

**Chapter 52: Count My Blessings**

Once she was able, Wendy ran .

Just as quickly, Peter stopped her.

"Hey! Speedster!" Flying backwards, Peter zig-zagged across Wendy's path. "Slow down! Admiral Triton is way back there, and he'll never know it was you. C'mon – walk with me. _Slow_ _down_."

Wendy plowed straight ahead.

"I have to get home."

Peter thumped down. "We're almost there. Besides, there's something I want to give – "

Wendy ducked under Peter's arms. "You don't understand I _have_ to get home _now._ "

"Why?" Peter blocked again. "What's your rush – "

"This—I can't wear _this_!" Frantically Wendy wrung her sweater. She stretched the fabric, pulling the wine stain off her skin. "I can't wear this anymore, I have to take it off, I have to wash it, I can smell it, I can feel it, I just _can't wear this_ – "

"Whoa! Okay, okay. Easy. _Eeeeasy_. Calm down…here." Peter unbuttoned his shirt. Wearing only his dinner-vest, he offered it to Wendy.

"There. Put this on. It's still damp, but it at least it smells like me. You know - _manly_ scent: candy canes and pinecones."

Peter waited. He whispered through a cupped hand. "Wendy that was a joke."

Wendy calmed. The joke would have been funny if it weren't true – Peter _did_ smell like candy canes and pinecones.

Wearily she accepted the shirt.

"I'm sorry."

"Eh. Rough night. You're allowed."

Wendy fingered the buttons. "Are you sure? Won't you be cold?"

"Please." Peter flexed. "An excuse to go shirtless? Been working on these babies for six years. Not often I get to show off! You are a very lucky girl."

Wendy did not affirm. But Peter smiled confidently as her eyes flicked over his bare chest. Inwardly, he translated her silence: _Yes. Wendy likes very much._

"All right." Peter said. "Spectating hours are over. Go ahead and change."

Wendy circled a hand. "Could you….?"

Peter rolled his eyes, interpreting her signal. Groaning good-naturedly, he spun about face.

Wendy flipped off her sweater. Peter's head slightly turned.

"Peter, don't peek."

"Ha." Peter covered his eyes. "Tease."

"I'm not teasing Peter." There was an edge to Wendy's voice. " _Don't_ _look_."

Peter frowned under his fingers. _She was angry. What did he do now?_ Sighing, Peter shut his fingers. Begrudgingly he closed his eyes. _So close._ _So, so close. Being a gentleman sucked. Worth it. But sucked._

Wendy's thoughts were similar. Of course, the seeds planted by Tinkerbell were darker, _much_ darker. But they basically equated to _'this sucks.'_

The romantic tension between them was tangible as a spider web. Peter was suffocating with impatience, and Wendy was drowning in indecision. There were too many questions, too many uncertainties: _Did she want to make love? No, she wasn't ready. And it was wrong. It was not proper. Right? Right? Right. Why should she make love? Wasn't she enough for Peter, just being herself? And goodness to glory - if Jim ever found out! And her mother – what would she think? No. She couldn't. Peter would just have to wait._

 _But…_ Wendy wondered.

 _Why hadn't Peter asked her? Why did he have to scare her? Why did he have to force her, without committing? Was it because…she was…clean? And what if – just supposing – she did make love? Could she please Peter? Would he compare her to his…others? Would he laugh at her? Would he like her? Would he say he loved her? Afterwards…would he stay?_

Wendy clung to the last button, lost in her thoughts. She didn't notice Peter until he spoke for the third time.

"This is Pan from starboard command," Peter spoke mechanically into his fist, pretending to be an astronaut. "Requesting verbal permission for landing to Darling docking port. Darling, Darling do you copy? _Ckhhhhp! Ckhhhp_! Over and out."

Wendy fastened the last button. Gently playing along, she spoke into her hand.

"Permission granted. Over and out."

"Rrrrrroger!" Peter zoomed like a rocket. Swooping beside Wendy he applauded. "Now _that_ is a nice looking shirt! Forget the dress – next time I'm buying you a suit!"

"Oh Peter."

"Well _there's_ a smile! _Finally_. Took me all night to find it."

He held her hand. Slinging the wine-stained sweater over his shoulder, Peter walked Wendy home.

"Pretty night, huh?"

Wendy agreed. "Almost dawn."

"Yeah." Peter gestured. "You want any particular color?"

"Color?"

"For the sunrise." Peter said. "I've got this box of crayons in Skyworld. All I have to do is swipe across the eastern sky, and color the sunrise with any crayon I want. Skyworld perk. Neat, huh?!"

Wendy gazed east. She imagined Peter coloring the sky, concentrating like a child with his nose in a coloring book.

"You like the Skyworld. Don't you Peter?"

"Who? Me? Puh. No. What makes you think that?"

"You talk of it quite often. The raincloud. The rainbows. The sunrise. The 'perks.'"

Peter shrugged. "Nah. Just bragging. You know me. Spotlight hog."

Wendy rubbed his hand. "It's not _wrong_ to enjoy it, Peter. And it's not wrong to be proud. I know you were resentful of the Wishing Star at first. But I think it made the right decision. Skyworld sounds beautiful. And you've made it so."

Wendy would have never believed it: but Peter was humbled.

"Oh uh…" The tips of Peter's ears practically curled. "Thanks. I uh…I guess it's okay. At times. You know. No biggie. Too small – for me. But pretty cool. Kinda awesome. Thanks."

Wendy smiled. She despised the Skyworld for taking Peter – but she was happy he'd found his niche. "You are welcome. Little Eagle."

"Psh. Yeah. Yeah. Awesome name. Totally cool."

Wendy smiled. "Very fitting."

"So." Peter abruptly said. "How long have you been having nightmares?"

Wendy was startled. "How did you know about – "

"Future husband." Releasing her hand, Peter unpocketed a dreamcatcher. "It's my job to know."

Peter dangled the dreamcatcher. It was small; if Wendy were to circle her hands, the dreamcatcher would fit comfortably inside.

But for its girth, the dreamcatcher was incredibly intricate. The glittering internal webbing was star-shaped and decorated with beads. The outer hoop also glittered, and a single red feather hung from the willow base.

Wendy studied the dreamcatcher. As it swung, Peter explained.

"I made this for you. Do you know what it is?"

"A dreamcatcher."

"But not just _any_ dreamcatcher. This dreamcatcher is covered with dreamsand. Have you ever heard of the Sandman?"

Wendy suddenly glowed. "I met him."

"Huh?"

"Yes." Wendy nodded, smiling at the memory. "Oh it seems so long ago. But I met Sandman in the Underworld. He showed me how to turn nightmares into dreams. And dreamsand – it's sort of like pixie dust. Isn't it?"

A little disappointed that Wendy had stolen his thunder, Peter nevertheless gave her credit.

"Geeze you're smart. Okay – _yes_ , Sandman makes dreams with dreamsand. BUT, did you know that only _I_ can collect dreamsand? Hm? Pretty cool huh? AND, did you also know that when you sprinkle dreamsand over a dreamcatcher….it can catch nightmares while you sleep?"

Wendy returned to the dreamcatcher with newfound interest.

"Peter. Do you mean – this will stop my nightmares?"

Peter puffed with pride. "Yup! Just hang it over your bed! Here! Take it!"

"I can't believe it." Delicately, Wendy cradled the dreamcatcher. "Peter this – _thank you_."

"I da man, huh?!"

"It's so elaborate." Wendy stroked the feather and beads. "How long did this take you to make?"

"Puh! Not long at ALL!" Peter boasted. "Here, lemmie show you!"

They had arrived at the Hawkins-Darling residence. Ignoring the light in the window, Peter settled Wendy on the front step. Animatedly, he began detailing the dreamcatcher's intricacies.

"Okay, so dreamcatchers are SUPER symbolic, right? So I had to make sure each part symbolized you. Take this – the wooden hoop. It's willow, from a weeping willow tree. That's for your mom and dad, I know you miss them. And the webbing – it's sewing thread, because you are a shadow worker. And see these beads? The blue one is you. The pink and white ones are your brothers, Michael and John. And this…"

Peter smoothed the long red feather.

"This is me. See how I have all these feathers braided into my hair? Well, this red one was the first, and my favorite. Because you are my fist and favorite."

He handed her the dreamcatcher. "Like it? Whoa!"

Peter faltered. Without warning, Wendy had hugged Peter with all her might.

Peter was a little speechless. Until this moment, _he_ had initiated every embrace. Heartened, Peter hugged Wendy back. It was nice – like Wendy was finally trusting him to take a risk.

"Ohhh. Oh my pretty girl." Peter rubbed her back. "I'm trying, you know? I _really_ am. But sometimes I guess I go too fast. I forgot about the beer thing. And the fight was stupid. I just…I just...I dunno. I'm sorry."

Wendy sat straight up.

"What?"

"Uh, what?"

"Did you just…." Wendy peered. "…what did you just say?"

Peter glanced hesitantly to the side. _Was this a trick question?_

"I'm…sorry?"

Wendy welled with happiness. " _Really_?"

Peter laughed. "You sure cry a lot!"

"No. No I'm just. Someone asked me if you had ever apologi – I'm sorry."

"You sure apologize a lot too!"

"I'm sorr – oh."

"Ha ha! Got ya!" Peter opened his arms. "Come here."

They snuggled. Wendy sighed. She could have fallen asleep inside Peter's shoulder.

"Geezum." Peter scrunched Wendy's hair. "I can't _believe_ I'm missing a _whole day_ with you tomorrow."

Wendy adjusted, leaning into his neck. "Will I see you tomorrow night?"

"Well I like the sound of that." Peter drummed _It's Fine By Me, If you Never Leave_ on her hip. "What you have in mind?"

"Well." Wendy thought. "I could make you dinner."

Peter jolted. Beaming, he held Wendy at arm's length.

"You're kidding?! Really? You'd make dinner? For me?"

Wendy cocked her head. "You made dinner tonight."

"Well, if you consider soggy _s'mores_ and Mountain Dew dinner! But you're serious? You would make dinner? Like a real family sit down dinner?"

Wendy was mystified. She had offered the dinner dismally; surely whatever she could 'cook up' would never compare to Peter's romantic evening. But Peter was sparkling as if he'd swallowed a jar of pixie dust.

 _It was just a dinner? Hadn't Peter ever…_

Suddenly, Wendy realized: Peter was an orphan. Families, cooking dinner, setting a table, eating together, sharing a meal…it was all outside of his experience. A family dinner was unreal as a greeting card picture. Unreal, but just as fantasied.

"Well _certainly_ silly boy." Confident and eager, Wendy encouraged the thrill in Peter's eyes. "I can cook anything. What would you like?"

Peter twinkled. "You're _kidding!_ "

"I wasn't kidding the last time. Really. Anything. What would you like for dinner?"

Peter rubbed his jaw. "You're sure? _Anything_?"

Wendy waved. "Wish away."

"Okay…" Peter eyed like still didn't believe her. Then, after a moment's contemplation, he decided.

"SpaghettiOs."

Wendy blinked. And then she laughed. "SpaghettiOs?!"

"Yeah!" Peter said. "You know – they come in a soup can. Aw man, they're delicious!"

"All right…" Wendy suppressed her laughter. "SpaghettiOs. Anything else that I could _actually_ _cook_?"

"Tater tots?"

"Oh goodness!" Wendy giggled.

"Oh! Oh!" Peter bounced. "And chicken nuggets – the type shaped like dinosaurs! You can get those anywhere, they're sold in an orange bag!"

Wendy could not stop laughing. Having cared for her brothers, she could whip a meal from scratch – Peter had no idea what she meant by ' _cook_.' Again, a _'home cooked meal'_ \- outside of his understanding.

"SpaghettiOs, tater tots, and dinosaur shaped chicken nuggets…everything that I could find in the four year old section of the nonperishable and frozen foods." Wendy smiled. "Anything to drink?"

"Easy." Peter said. "Lemon lime Kool-Aid!"

"You've _quite_ an interesting palate." Wendy lifted a finger. "All right. One more."

"There's _more_?!"

"Certainly. Dessert. What would you like for dessert?"

"Dessert? Hmmmmmmm." Romantically, Peter leaned. He strummed her lower lip. "You?"

Wendy almost slipped off the step.

"W-well…" trying to stay smiley, she breathed. "Nutritionally speaking…"

"Nutrition? Hmm. Lemmie taste." Bending Peter gave her a kiss. He held, adjusted, slid over her lips like a harmonica, and made ponderous noises.

"Yup!" Peter withdrew. He smacked. "Gushers."

"And you got that from a kiss?"

"Your lips are telling me Gushers!"

"Gushers." Wendy recited. "So tomorrow's menu: SpaghettiOs, tater tots, dinosaur shaped chicken nuggets, lemon-lime Kool Aid, and Gushers."

Peter rubbed her leg. "Not to hard is it?"

Wryly, Wendy laughed. She could probably microwave the entire meal in three minutes.

"I think I'll manage."

"Good." Peter said. "Because I have one more request. Will you wear an apron?"

"…excuse me?"

"You know an apron." Peter mimed. "One of those tie-around-the-waist-bow-in-the-back numbers. Will you wear one?"

Wendy was suspicious. "Why?"

Peter rolled his head. "Because they're _homey_! And kinda a turn on."

"Oh Peter! Please!" Wendy huffed. "I am doing this to cook you dinner! Not to be on display!"

"Oh CON – TRAIRE!" Peter grinned. "You display for me all the time. AND I KNOW it's on purpose! You and your _garter_."

"You weren't supposed to see that!"

"I _still_ haven't seen it."

"Peter they are functional-"

"HA!"

"-they hold up my stockings!"

"Haven't seen much of those either. Come on, just wear an apron! _Please_?! I'll wear anything you want!"

Maliciously, Wendy tilted her head. " _Really_?"

Peter backed. "Uh oh."

"All right…" Wickedly, Wendy articulated each word. "Wear - a - kilt."

"WHAT? A kilt?! A KILT!? No way! Nuh uh! You seriously want me to wear a – "

"I'm joking!" Wendy ruffled his hair. "Peter I'm joking!"

Peter caught her hands. Impishly they wrestled. "You little prankster! You wait Miss Darling – I just MIGHT wear a kilt! I'll even dance a jig while you cook our – "

The door opened. The kitchen lamp hit them like a spotlight. Sarah stood in the center – exhausted with worry.

"Wendy! _Wendy_! Young lady _where_ have you been! Jim was home hours ago! Do you have any idea what time it – "

Sarah stopped. "—Wendy is this Peter?"

Wendy scampered upright.

"Yes. Sarah I'm sorry but…" she motioned. "Peter, this is Sarah Hawkins, my mother. Sarah I'm sorry, _I am_. But I had an…um…well Peter brought me home. He was just – "

"I believe," Sarah interrupted. "Peter was just saying goodbye. Yes?"

Sarah's tone made Wendy uneasy. But Peter looked…intimidated. Backing several paces from the step, he refused eye contact with Sarah. He wouldn't even stare at her feet. He was just…silent. Again a mother (especially a strict mother) - outside of his experience.

Sarah studied Peter. When she spoke, he shirked.

"Say goodnight, Wendy. Then inside. Peter – _goodnight_."

Peter muttered. He didn't look up.

Wendy approached Peter. Feeling Sarah's glare, she glanced timorously over her shoulder.

"Um. Sarah. Could…we have a moment? Please?"

Sarah scowled. " _One_ minute."

"Thank you."

The door closed, only ajar. As Sarah retreated, Peter blew his bangs.

"Phew. Grownups." Peter wove his arms around Wendy. "Make me nervous. Yikes. Okay, pretty girl. C'mer."

For a third time they embraced, but this time they held as if it were that last. Wendy stood on tiptoe and Peter straightened, lifting her from the ground. Toes skimming, Wendy squeezed.

"Thank you for the dreamcatcher. And thank you for the lovely, _lovely_ anniversary."

Peter squeezed back. "Nice dress huh?"

"Nice? Gorgeous."

"Picked it out myself. I love that color. Sky blue. Reminds me of you."

 _Love._ The word rung in Wendy's ears. _He said love. That was almost I love you._

The door creaked. Sarah was watching. Haggardly, Peter lowered Wendy and withdrew.

"Remember…" he said, tapping the dreamcatcher. "Over the bed."

"All right."

"Night Wendy."

"Goodnight Peter."

Hands in pockets, Peter departed. As he walked, he stepped into the air.

Wendy bit her lip.

"Peter!" she suddenly called.

Peter turned, hovering. "Yeah?"

"Tomorrow. In the Otherland." Wendy lifted a hand. Shyly, she drew it back. "Peter do be careful."

Peter smiled. He nodded at Jim's bike, propped against the wall. "You too."

Wendy ached. She wasn't ready for him to go.

"Peter?"

"Wendy?"

"…sweet dreams."

Peter did not immediately respond. But when he did, he was _profoundly_ sincere.

"I don't need sweet dreams." Peter said. "I just think of you, and I fall asleep counting my blessings."

Wendy flew to heaven and back. Swiftly, she turned – Peter was right. She did cry a lot! But this time, her tears were justified, because two of Jim's doubts had been allayed.

One: Peter apologized. He cared that she had cried.

Two: Peter prayed. He 'counted his blessings,' thanking that Wendy was his.

There was just one doubt left to quell.

 _Has he ever said I love you?_

"He will." Wendy whispered, dreamcatcher in her hands. "I _know_ he will."

The door closed. The household dimmed.

Peter sighed.

"I was going to marry her tomorrow."

The light in Wendy's room flickered. Peter glanced sideways. Jim's room was lit too.

Peter frowned. He threw an imaginary stone at Jim's window. "Stupid Otherland. Stupid Vikings. Stupid Rat Tail. Stupid…"

Peter found the Wishing Star. Floating away, he softly declared. "Rot away, Wishing Star. You can't keep us apart forever."

* * *

 **...**

 **Big4girl poem:**

 ** _My blessings are you, Wendy Darling it's true! Though I don't say it out loud, I hope you are proud, that I really do, Wendy Darling love you._**

 **...**

* * *

 **sultal: I WISH I could take credit for the line "I fall asleep counting my blessings" but I cannot. "Count Your Blessings" is a song written by Irvin Berlin (aka THA MAN), and the line Peter speaks is one of the lyrics.**


	53. Chapter 53: Red Feather Earring of Gold

**Chapter 53: Red Feather. Earring of Gold.**

Wendy figured it out in the shower.

"Oh. Wendy." Closing her eyes, she murmured. "Of course."

Washing, drying, and dressing, Wendy donned John's pajamas and climbed into bed. Sitting quietly at the edge, she fingered the dreamcatcher. Her thumb grazed the willow hoop, webbing, blue, pink, and white beads, and the single red feather.

"Of course." she repeated, rising from bed and walking to Jim's room. "Peter. Why didn't you tell me?"

The hallway was dim, save for the white light spilling beneath Jim's door. Wendy glance cautiously to Sarah's bedroom; Sarah had reprimanded her six ways to Sunday for breaking curfew. After a round of " _I'm sorry's_ " she bade Wendy goodnight, and promised further discussion in the morning.

Wendy didn't blame Sarah. She was being a good mother, that was all. Wendy knew she would have acted similarly, and she was sure her _own_ mother would have reacted much worse.

Carefully, Wendy raised a fist to Jim's door. She didn't want to provoke Sarah's anger. _"Go straight to bed"_ meant _'go straight to bed_ ,' – not _'go straight to bed after confronting Jim._ ' Sarah's orders were not designed for interpretation.

Wendy knew she had best be quiet.

Softly Wendy knocked. There was no response.

"Jim?" she breathed, eyes on Sarah's bedroom.

Nothing. Wendy knocked again, just a little louder. "Jim?"

Again nothing.

Wendy bit her lip. _Was he asleep?_

She double-checked under the door. _Yes. The light was on_. _Was Jim ignoring her? Or had he just forgotten to turn the light off?_

Indecisively, Wendy turned the doorknob. After calling Jim's name without receiving a response, she slowly opened the door. Eyes averted (in case Ariel was inside) she slid through the crack.

"Jim? Jim are you..."

Again Jim did not answer, but Wendy heard rap music. The rapping was thin and distant, as if through headphones.

Wendy looked. Jim was lying in bed, feet at the head and head by the foot. Bulky headphones were blaring rap music into his ears. Wendy mused: _No wonder he hadn't heard her._

It was impossible to tell if Jim was asleep or awake; a book covered his eyes, and an arm was slung over the book. Side-stepping for an improved view, Wendy silently read the title. _'Photoelectric Effect: Mechanics of Solar Suffering.'_

Reminiscently, Wendy smiled. He must have read that book a dozen times.

As she assessed Jim neither noticed or budged. He was stagnant, but Wendy read his body language clearly.

 _Rap music: he's frustrated._

 _Reading: he's trying to calm down._

 _Not reading: he can't._

Resisting the urge to comfort him, Wendy approached the bed. Gently touching his shoulder, she whispered.

"Jim – "

Jim jerked, inhaling sharply. Removing the book, he blinked groggily before focusing on Wendy.

"Wen." Jim lowered his headphones. He seemed surprised to see her. "Hey."

"I'm sorry." Wendy said. "I didn't mean to wake you."

"No, no. You didn't. Just dozing. One sec..." Leaning, Jim killed the stereo. The rap music faded as he groped for his alarm clock.

"Wow, it's late. Did you just get back?"

"No." Wendy lied.

"You okay? Nightmare?"

"No. No I..." Wendy eased onto the bed. Sitting cross-legged before him, she displayed the dreamcatcher. "I have this."

The comment was unanticipated; Jim didn't have time to hide his reaction. Sagging, he released a relieved sigh. Wendy waited for his confession. But Jim hardened, feigning ignorance.

"What is it?"

Wendy set the dreamcatcher in her lap. Disappointedly she stroked the red feather.

"It's a dreamcatcher."

"Dreamcatcher."

"To catch nightmares."

"Good. That's good."

"Peter made it."

"Hmm."

Wendy looked up. "It was your idea."

Jim was motionless. "No. Pan made it. He gave it –"

"I'm not twelve." Wendy said. "I know it was you."

Jim rubbed the spine of his book. "Did Pan tell you that?"

"No."

"Then how do you know?"

Wendy remembered something Jim had shouted during their fight.

"I can read you like a book. James Pleiades."

Silence.

"Thank you." Wendy said.

Jim nodded. "Yeah."

"It was kind."

"Didn't want to get puked on tonight."

"But it was very _kind_." Wendy stressed, frustrated at his humility. "Jim. _Thank you_."

"...you're welcome Wen."

Wendy turned over the dreamcatcher, deliberating how to phrase her feelings.

"I..." Embarrassed, she swallowed. "I said some things tonight, that I know made you feel very small. And...and I _know_ you would never ask for an apology. But Jim...I was wrong. And I just wanted you to know how _truly_ sorry I am. You and Ariel – "

"Wen." Jim interrupted. "Wen you don't have to do this. Totally unnecessary."

"No _it_ _is_ necessary." Wendy pleaded Jim not to dismiss her. "I said things that were _utterly_ untrue. Jim you are a gentleman – you are! You are the most honest, honorable person I have ever met. And whatever decision you make, I know it is the best. You love Ariel. So it's all right. But regardless, what you are Ariel do is _none_ of my business."

"Actually." Jim said. "It kinda is."

"No. No it's absolutely not."

"It is." Jim repeated. "Otherwise, it's a double standard."

"A double – oh." Subdued, Wendy picked at her pajamas. Uncomfortably she recollected Jim's warning – if Peter ever touched her, he would die. "I... _still_ think it's none of my business. Or _yours_."

Through the mattress, Wendy felt Jim tense.

"Jim." Contritely, she traced the bedsheet. "Jim. I would _never_. I would never give myself. Never."

"I know you wouldn't." Jim said. "But. I also know you're thinking about it."

"I...I..."

"You're a pretty girl with a guy that can't keep his hands off you. You also happen to have a crush on him." Jim gazed intently. " _Of course_ you've been thinking about it. It's natural. But, I still don't want Pan touching you."

Wendy shifted uncomfortably. "What about your double standard?"

"And that is why it _is_ your business." Jim explained. "Wen – it was _different_ with Ariel and me. Tonight...tonight was _not_ our first. Our first was six years ago."

"Six years ago? But that would have been before we – " Wendy touched her mouth. She blushed. "Oh. You and Ariel...before we left Fantasia?"

Jim looked down. Placing and replacing his book on the covers, he gently spoke.

"Remember your first date with Peter? The roller skates? Well...it was that night, our last night in Fantasia. Ariel came to me. To make love. But I said no. I knew she was hurting. I knew she was scared. So I said no. I let her know that she didn't have to...because I already loved her."

"But." Jim added, voice faint as falling snow. "But she still said yes. So we made love. It was mutual. It was... _right_. It felt strange that we hadn't before. Ariel knows I would never hurt her. What we share with our bodies...is _underwhelmed_ by... _us_."

It was purely the most beautiful thing Wendy had ever heard.

"Jim." she shook her head. "You don't have to tell me this."

Forcing a little smile, Jim rubbed her knee. "I know. But I wanted you to understand. I love Ariel. So everything is all right."

"Everything? Everything is all right?"

"Yes."

"Jim. Are you sure?"

"...yes."

Wendy stared. "You frighten me Jim."

"I...frighten you?" Jim frowned. She looked ready to cry. "Wen. _Why_?"

Wendy inched closer. Unnerved, Jim receded as she looked through his eyes and into his soul.

"It is _frightening_." Wendy breathed, brushing his cheek. "What you can hide behind a smile."

Jim tried not to; but he had to break her gaze.

Sadly, Wendy sat. "I'm sorry about your dinner. I'm sorry what Admiral Triton said – that you and Ariel...can never...be together."

Jim gripped the bedsheet. He glared at the floor.

Wendy touched his hand. "You know it's untrue."

"Wen – "

"Jim, I know you don't want to discuss it but – "

" _Wendy_ – "

"But you are my family." Wendy seized his hand before he tore it away. "And when someone hurts you, they hurt me. I know _he_ hurt you. I know _they_ hurt you. I know that you are dying inside, and I know you hit that spot on the wall when you came home. I know that you're _still_ not going to talk about it when I'm through, but I want you to know that _you_ Jim Hawkins are the one that Ariel loves, and _you_ Jim Hawkins are the one she _will_ be with forever."

Wendy released his hand. Meekly, she withdrew. "And that's... all I have to say."

She waited. Her intrusiveness was unnatural, but Jim's pain was obvious as a bleeding wound. His chest was caved, and his head was turned as if he held the weight of the world on his shoulders. Jim loathed sympathy; but Wendy _couldn't_ let him hurt alone.

Jim exhaled. His breath was sharp, labored. His eyes were closed, but when they opened, the teal-grey irises were glassy.

"They...just..."

Wendy couldn't help herself. Crawling forward, she gathered Jim in her arms. She did not speak. She did not comfort. She just held, relying on the power of touch.

Wretchedly Jim sighed. Kneading an eye, he withdrew.

"Thanks Wen."

Morph cooed as they shared a second silence.

"What a day, huh?" Jim said.

Wendy faintly agreed.

Jim motioned at the window. The ocean glimmered outside. "Still coming with me tomorrow?"

 _Sinbad._ Wendy silently marveled. From her perspective, Sinbad was a ghost, a villain from Jim's story. Tomorrow...they might actually encounter Jim's father.

Wendy nodded. "Yes. I'll be there for you."

"Good. Bring your needle and thread. I' might need back up. He's a son of a bitch."

Wendy squirmed. Jim smiled.

"Language." they said.

"Okay punk." Leg lifted, Jim slid her off the bed. "Get going. You've got a lot of sleep to make up."

Wendy bounced lightly off the mattress. Dreamcatcher trailing from her hand, she bid Morph goodnight and strode to the door.

Then, she paused.

"Jim? Might I have your earring?"

"My what?"

"Your earring." Wendy pointed to his tiny gold hoop. "May I have it? Please?"

Jim probed his earlobe. "Why?"

"For my dreamcatcher. Peter said for it to work correctly, every part must symbolize me." Raising the dreamcatcher, Wendy stared through the starry webbing. "You're missing."

Something inside Jim brightened – just a touch. Although he remained unsmiling, a dark stain deep inside him glowed like a star.

Jim unfastened his earring. Delicately, he secured it to the dreamcatcher.

"Night Wen."

"Jim. Goodnight."

With Jim's golden earring, the dreamcatcher's magical circuitry was complete. For the first time in _ages_ , Wendy slept. She _wonderfully_ and _gloriously_ slept!

But...she still dreamed.

 _She dreamed of Peter, smoothing her body; sharing what Ariel and Jim shared; becoming vulnerable, trusting unconditionally; feeling right._

 _She felt his lips. He was smiling. He was happy. She heard his voice, whispering inside her head._

 _'Let me say I love you.'_

Wendy woke. Dawn was rising. Perhaps it was coincidence, but sky-blue streaks radiated through the pinks and purples like a crown.

A glint pulled her gaze. Jim's gold earring glared in the early morning light. Peter's red feather waved beneath, like a hand beckoning her to come.

 _'Let me say I love you.'_

Wendy covered her mouth.

"All right." she sobbed. "I'll do it."

* * *

 **...**

 **Big4girl poem:**

 _ **Peter, Peter! What can I do! Peter Pan I love you and I want to show it too! But I'm scared and so are you! So why do I care what we do? It's a battle of feelings inside of my mind! But it's time Peter…its time.**_

 **...**


	54. Chapter 54: I Gotta Pee

**Chapter 54: I Gotta Pee**

"I gotta pee. Are they done yet?"

"Nope."

"They done _yet_?"

"Nope.

"…nowwwwwwwww?"

"Nope."

" _Whataboutnow_?"

"Ruffnutt!" ( _Clank!_ ) "Can it!"

"Ow! Tuffnutt!" ( _Clank – clank!)_ "I gotta pee!"

"That's what your helmet is for!"

 _CLANK!_

"OW!"

"THAT'S what my HELMET is for!"

"You guys!" Astrid flung her battle axe. She shouldered through Fishlegs and Snoutlout as the twelve inch blade _whacked_ between Ruffnutt and Tuffnutt. "Cut it out! I'm trying to think!"

"Scholarly and beautiful – ow!" Snoutlout cringed as Astrid punched his sternum. "Ahh. And astonishingly strong."

"Oh everybody…" Fishlegs' three chins quivered. "Stop fighting. Remember what Chief Stoick said! We're supposed to be quiet while he holds council with Drago."

"Ha!" Astrid wrenched her axe from the Great Hall. As an afterthought she walloped the stonework, praying that Chief Stoick and Drago would hear the echo inside.

"Ha!" Astrid repeated, kicking the wall. "Drago! Stupid Drago! Who does he think he is anyway?"

"Um, a Power Hungry Master of All Things Dragon?" Fishlegs offered. He gulped under Astrid's glare. "Well…that's what Drago told us when he arrived."

"Yes!" Astrid plowed through her comrades. She pointed to the night sky. It was swarming with dragons. _Their_ dragons. "And he also BRAIN WASHED our dragons! Look at them! Our dragons are POSSESSED! They only answer to Drago's call! Stormfly doesn't even _recognize_ me!"

Uniformly the Vikings depressed. Astrid lowered her arm: she'd never seen her friends so down-in-the-dumps. For the love of Thor !; she'd never seen _Berk_ so down-in-the-dumps. It was very un-Viking-like.

Glumly Astrid sat. Rethinking the past, she gazed at the flying dragons.

It had been an awful autumn – and by Viking standards, "awful" ranked somewhere between eating dragon poop and decapitation. Not awesome. Not good.

All their trouble started when Hiccup left on his crazy quest to revitalize The King of the Otherland. Although she and Hiccup weren't _officially_ dating, Astrid qualified their parting argument as a 'lover's spat.' Sure axes had been thrown, punches had been caught, and unkind words had been said, but Astrid feared for Hiccup. His mission was futile and dangerous – what if he never came back?

 _"_ _Well you're yelling at me!"_ Hiccup had retorted. _"Why should you care if I come back?"_

Astrid closed her eyes. Painfully, she remembered the words that had tumbled from her mouth. _"Because I love – "_

Yeah. THAT conversation had ended lickity split. Lickity split as a typhoomerang dragon sliding down a water slide (for non-Vikings – that's _fast_ ).

 _"_ _Bye Astrid."_ Hiccup had muttered, bright red.

 _"_ _Bye Hiccup."_ Astrid had muttered, brighter red.

 _"_ _Punch for the road?"_ Hiccup had asked.

 _"_ _Sure."_ SOCK.

 _"_ _Ouch. Thanks. Bye."_

 _"_ _Bye."_

Romance. Not exactly Astrid's forte. But not exactly a Viking forte either – Vikings were romantic as a runny nose.

Regardless, Hiccup's disappearance made Astrid miserable. She _missed_ him; and every morning she awaited his safe return. But as her wait became longer and her impatience grew, Astrid convinced her Viking brethren (Snoutlout, Fishlegs, Ruffnutt, and Tuffnutt) to help her find him.

But then _Drago_ arrived.

Drago. Drago Bludvist.

Astrid chopped her axe. Angrily, she hacked mini crevasses between her legs.

She did not like Drago Bludvist. At all.

Drago Bludvist was a Viking chieftain, and apparently some sort of fancy warlord with a severe attitude problem. He had arrived in Berk _seconds_ before Astrid began her hunt for Hiccup. The moment Astrid mounted Stormfly (her dragon), Drago had screamed. Wildly jerking his sword in circles, Drago had _somehow_ summoned the dragons with his call. And as the dragons swirled robotically into the air, Drago had demanded that Chief Stoick and the tribe of Hairy Hooligans follow him to take Fantasia.

Abrupt. Weird.

And _really_ irritating.

Without their dragons, Astrid and her fellow riders could not fly. And if they could not fly, they could not save Hiccup's sorry butt.

Astrid had hollered to Stormfly until she was hoarse, but to no avail. Stormfly would not respond. Drago's call had possessed the dragons; day and night they soared overhead, breathing fire and groaning like slaves.

It was demoralizing. The Vikings loved their dragons. Yes, love. And it wasn't a frivolous love – like loving a puppy, or loving a brand new car. It was a best friend love – a best friend that would fight _with_ you, and _for_ you against impossible odds. And, for Vikings, odds were usually a little worse than impossible.

Sadly, Astrid ran a thumb across her blade. Each Viking rode a different dragon, and each species offered different advantages. Some dragons were heavily armored, while others spit venom or flew lightning fast. But even the strongest, swiftest, fiercest dragon paired with the strongest, swiftest, fiercest Viking, could never compete with a rider that loved her dragon. It was a mysterious, powerful bond. But, as Hiccup always said, it was not the species of dragon that made a good rider – it was the _bond_ between them.

Astrid scanned the sky. Instantly she found Stormfly. The deadly nadder's majestic yellow and blue hide gleamed against the firelight as she swooped overhead.

Heavily, Astrid sighed. Reactively, the circle of young Vikings echoed her distress. They too missed their dragons.

Astrid scanned the circle. They were a motley bunch. How they had all survived 20 years without killing each other, Astrid would never know. Circling left to right, Astrid studied her coeds.

First there was Snoutlout. The shortest of the Vikings (5 feet 6 inches helmet on, 5 feet 3 inches helmet off), Snoutlout was a hero in his own mind. The quintessential Viking, Snoutlout was a meathead. Snoutlout's dragon, Hookfang, was a scarlet Monstrous Nightmare with a short temper and kerosene flames (a volatile combination).

Next in line was Fishlegs. Fishlegs was puffy as an overstuffed pillow, and just about as lethal. However, what he lacked in brawn, Fishlegs compensated with brain. The village nerd, Fishlegs adored dragon trivia and could spout 'dragon statistics' faster than Hiccup. Moreover, Fishlegs' bond with his dragon (a female Gronckle named Meatlug) rivaled that of Hiccup and Toothless.

Finally there were the twins: Ruffnutt and Tuffnutt. Ruffnutt was the girl, Tuffnutt was the boy and they were both blond, crass, and crazy. Notorious for bickering and breaking rules, they delighted in danger. Pain was a stimulant; agony was adrenaline.

Ruff and Tuff shared a two headed Hideous Zippleback dragon named Barf and Belch. One dragon. Two heads. Half a brain. Kinda like the twins.

Astrid sawed her axe into the earth. Yup. They were a motley, motely bunch. But they all shared a special role: they were the original dragon riders of Berk. And thanks to Drago, they were soulless without their dragons.

"I GOTTA peeeeeeeeeeee!" Ruffnutt moaned. Rolling over Tuffnutt, she almost got tangled in her three foot long pigtails. "Why hasn't Chief Stoick killed Drago yet?!"

"Because Drago is controlling our dragons." Astrid snapped, once again locating Stormfly. "Drago could make them attack us at any minute."

"Personally," said Snoutlout. "I vote we just go along with Drago and attack Fantasia. I mean the guy looks like a gorilla and everything – "

"—you look like a gorilla." Astrid mumbled.

"—but anything is better than sitting on our butts. And come on – Fantasia? Please, we could annihilate that country drunk. I mean how long could it possibly take – 11 seconds?"

"Ten." corrected Tuffnutt.

"Nine."revised Snoutlout.

"Eight."

"Seven!"

"Six!"

"Five!"

"Four!"

"Three!"

"Two!"

"STOP I'm going to pee!" howled Ruffnutt.

"Fantasia." Tuffnutt snorted. "Fairytale land. Bunch o' sissies."

"Tuffnutt is right." Fishlegs nodded. "Dragons in Fantasia are not trained. All Fantasian dragons live underground. They sleep half the day and are mesmerized by gold. Hiccup and I named them Lazy Boys."

"Whoa! Whoa!" Snoutlout waved. "Time out, you _named_ them?"

Wide-eyed, Fishlegs blinked. "That's what we do with new dragon species. We name them."

"Yeah I know. But without us?"

"Um…."

"Aren't we supposed to VOTE on stuff like that?"

Fishlegs gulped. Vikings took _'naming'_ _very_ seriously. "…oops?"

"Oops? Oops won't mend my broken heart! Wait till Hiccup gets back! I'll show him what's what!"

"If Drago doesn't free our dragons…" Astrid climbed to her feet. "Then Hiccup might never get back!"

"Speak of the devil then, huh?"

"AH!" Tuffnutt rammed Ruffnutt with his helmet. Elatedly he pointed behind Astrid. "HICCUP!"

"Hiccup!" Fishlegs squealed.

"Hiccup!" Snoutlout roared. "You NAMED dragons WITHOUT us?"

"Hiccup!" Ruffnutt pulled her pigtails and wailed. "I HAVE TO PEE!"

Breathlessly Astrid turned. "Hiccup?"

Hiccup emerged from beneath Toothless' wings. He was lopsided as his grin, but he was alive! Astrid was _so_ happy.

"Hiccup! How DARE you come back!"

Well…she was also mad.

"How dare you come back here!" Astrid raved. "You think it's _okay_ to just waltz out, and expect everyone to sing your praises when you return?"

"I'm guessing this is a bad time to for a round of 'Hail the Conquering Hero?'" Fishlegs whispered.

"Yeah." Snoutlout verified. "Probably."

"Ruff!" Tuffnutt whacked his sister. "Astrid's gonna kill Hiccup! Pay attention!"

"Ohhhh!" Ruffnutt groaned. "I gotta pee…"

Astrid brandished her axe. "Do you know how worried we've all been? Huh? You're in BIG trouble mister! The second you dismount Toothless I'm going to crack your skull and knock your stupid brains out!"

"Cool." Tuffnutt smiled.

Ruffnutt agreed. "Yeah. Still gotta pee."

"Cocky!" Astrid spluttered as Hiccup descended. "Reckless! Dewey-eyed! Irrational-!"

"Ya done yet?" Hiccup asked.

"—wuss!" Astrid spat, arms cross over her axe. "So what do you have to say to THAT?"

Hiccup considered. Then he nudged Toothless.

"Bud, as we discussed. Get her axe."

Astrid blinked. "Ge my a -? TOOTHLESS! Toothless give that back! Toothless! Toothless!"

"Sorry Astrid." Limping forward, Hiccup blocked Astrid's punch. "But this is for my safety and your own good."

"Hiccup!" Astrid yelled. "Your dragon had better drop my axe right now or I'm gonna –"

Hiccup leaned. Cupping Astrid's head, he smothered her anger with a kiss.

"Oh." Ruffnutt popped upright, bladder forgotten. "Ohhhhh myyyyyyyyyyyyy."

"Ugh." Tuffnutt grunted. "Gross."

Toothless rolled his eyes. Unimpressed he chewed Astrid's axe. _About time, Hiccup._

"Hiccup's kissing Astrid." Snoutlout slowly connected the dots. "Which means….Astrid has a boyfriend now. Which means…."

"...there's only one single Viking female left in Berk." Fishlegs finished. "Just one single lady."

Snoutlout and Fishlegs turned. Dreamily they watched Ruffnutt squeezing her bladder.

"Oh for the love of Thor." Tuffnutt clonked his head. _Great. His sister was the last single Viking female in Berk._ "Somebody skewer me or neuter them. Hey! Astrid! Hiccup! Quit with the kissy- kissy! Start punching each other again!"

Astrid and Hiccup withdrew.

"We are either all or nothing, Astrid." Bashfully Hiccup grinned. "Please don't punch me."

Astrid smiled. She punched him anyway – but it was lighter. Only a minor bruise.

"Glad you're back. Welcome home."

"Yeah. Speaking of which." Hiccup motioned to the hypnotized dragons. "What's going on?"

Astrid related Drago's tale. By the end, she was spitting like a volcano and eager for Hiccup to explode.

But Hiccup surprised her.

"Drago wants to take Fantasia?" Signaling to Toothless, Hiccup staggered to the Great Hall. "Might not be a bad idea. Let's hear what he has to say."

" _What_?" Astrid chased Hiccup through the oak doors. The Vikings followed. "Hiccup! No! Are you nuts! Drago wants to take over Berk -"

Astrid's cries were overblown by a chorus of "HICCUP!" as the chieftains cheered and Chief Stoick embraced his son.

"Jus' in time Hiccup." Thick accent lost in his beard, Stoick nodded at Drago. Supporting Hiccup's weak side, he marched to the center of the Great Hall.

"Here, Drago Bludvist!" Stoick bellowed, raising Hiccup's arm.

Hiccup winced. "Ow, elbow joint."

Stoick continued with a hearty shake. "Ye think ye can force Berk into yer war against Fantasia? Ye think ye can control our dragons! Well – here is my son! The dragon trainer! Hiccup Horrendous Haddock III!"

"Dad the name is really not helping…"

"And MY SON!" Stoick thumped Hiccup before Drago. "Will tell ye why we will not fight yer war te take Fantasia!"

Hiccup wavered on his bent prosthetic. Moving back a hand, he felt for Toothless.

"Drago. Drago Bludvist."

Drago nodded. His filthy dreadlocks hung like ropes over his eyes. "Aye."

Hiccup lifted his head. "You want to take Fantasia? With our dragons?"

"Aye."

Hiccup gazed. Suddenly he looked down, eyes watering.

The Vikings murmured. _What was Hiccup doing? Was that sentiment? No dust. There was dust in his eye, it must be dust. Vikings don't cry._

"I…" Hiccup ground his eyes. Remembering The King – _his_ king –Hiccup announced. "I think we should. I think we should take Fantasia. To avenge our King."

Drago smiled.

The Vikings erupted.

But in the end, a decision was made.

The Vikings would take Fantasia.

"Vindictive, mysterious, and cruel?" Snoutlout scratched his head. "That's new for Hiccup."

"Yeah." Tuffnutt grinned. "I like it."

"It scares me." Fishlegs said. "But at least we get our dragons."

"Something is wrong." Astrid peered suspiciously as Hiccup and Drago shook. "This goes against everything Hiccup believes in."

Fishlegs shrugged. "Well, if you think about it, this is actually the most rational decision. Drago might have turned our dragons against us otherwise. Maybe Hiccup's just going with the flow."

"Speaking of going with the flow…." Snoutlout simpered sweetly at Ruffnutt. "Still have to pee my little lotus flower?"

Ruffnutt made a face. _Ew. Yuck. Was he flirting with her?_

Tuffnutt looked down. He was standing in a mysterious puddle.

"Nope." Tuffnutt said, flicking yellow droplets from his boot. "She's good."

* * *

 **...**

 **Big4girl poem:**

 _ **Revenge, Revenge, The King I will avenge. I'll take Fantasia and avenge our king, don't make me sing it. Revenge is on my mind and I won't lose this time so don't wait for me because in the front I'll be.**_

 **...**

* * *

 **sultal's notes:**

 **(1) So, again - single male characters in the fan fiction universe are RARE (almost as rare as a single lady Vikings ;)) so there are LITERALLY a BILLION ships for Hiccup out there. Again, sorry to disappoint anyone, but I went with the best ship for this story.**

 **(2) To those that know me, I am not one to sit down and watch a movie. I think going to a movie theater is boring, and I have a hard time sitting through an entire movie without wanting to shoot myself. BUT BUT BUT - I will say this: The How To Train Your Dragon movies kept my attention and I literally will watch them just to watch them. I love these characters, and I highly recommend watching HTTYD 1 and 2! So freaking funny.**

 **(3) keep writing.**


	55. Chapter 55: Road Trip

**Chapter 55: Road Trip**

"Ack. Bunny. You joke."

"No. North. I don't. Jack Frost is a bloody miscreant and I say we melt his frosty hind-quarters, re-freeze him in an ice cube tray, and feed him to the yetis!"

"Urghwrg!" the yetis objected.

"Fine." revised Bunny. "The elves."

Dingle the elf jingled. He was okay with that.

"Bunny." North soothed as Sandman wagged his finger. "Jack is in Fantasia. It is as you said – we do not guard Fantasia, and we cannot keep playing this merry-go-roundy with Jack. The children of Otherland need our protection."

"North!" Tooth called. She batted the mini-fairies buzzing around her. "North come look at the globe!"

"Tooth." North pleasantly chastised. "Can't you see we are trying to argue?"

"But—!" Tooth pointed. "The globe! There's a strange – "

"We haven't seen hide nor hair of Pitch." Bunny interrupted, resuming the argument. "And the Otherland kids are fine – hunky dory. Hasn't been a battle in days. But Jack can't keep running around Fantasia like a bloody show pony! You remember the last time we tried to collaborate with the Fantasian guardians – "

"Jack Frost." North reminded sadly. "Is not yet a guardian. He refuses still."

Sandman wiped a tear.

"North!" Tooth urged, hands pressed to the globe. "North get over here – "

"I'm not suggesting we _include_ Jack as guardian." Bunny clarified. He hopped sideways as Sandman whisked by to join Tooth. "I'm saying we put him in his place. Get Jack _out_ of Fantasia before he makes a mess that _we_ have to clean up!"

"North!" Tooth pleaded as Sandman flashed an exclamation point over his head. "North! Seriously something is wrong – "

"Bunny! Is better to focus on current situation!" North spanked Bunny with his sabre. "Finding Pitch!"

Furiously, Bunny rubbed his rump. "Pitch isn't here mate! We've _combed_ the Otherland! You must've been seeing things!"

"HA! North does not see things! Vision – 20 and 20!"

"Then what's with the half moon glasses?"

"Is for show! Gives character!"

"Oh kinda like the belly full of jelly?"

"ACK! Do NOT insult the belly!"

"North the belly can't talk!"

"The belly talks! She KNOWS!"

"I think you've been drinking too much eggnog mate –"

"North!" Tooth shrieked as Sandman flung a ball of dreamsand. "Bunny! WE HAVE A PROBLEM!"

Aggravated, North and Bunny whipped about into a face full of dreamsand. As the dreamsand diffused into their subconscious, North and Bunny staggered sleepily beneath golden images sparkling over their heads.

"Ooo..." North pawed groggily at dreamsand peppermint sticks. "Cannnnnnndy cannnnnnnes!"

To his left, Bunny grinned googly-eyed at dancing carrots. Dreamily, the two guardians bumped, collapsed, and fell sound asleep – dreaming of candy canes and carrots.

"Nice shot Sandy." Tooth gestured at the snoring bodies. "It'll be hours before they wake up."

Sheepishly, Sandman shrugged. _Oops._

"It's fine. Fine, fine, fine. But look..." Tooth floated beneath the globe. As Sandman followed her to the Fantasian side, she touched a little light.

"Look Sandy. This light represents a child. A child of the Otherland." Tenderly, Tooth traced the light. The dot shivered under her nail. "This child is in Fantasia. And the light isn't gold. It's red."

Tooth searched Sandman's grim expression.

"Sandy? Does that mean this child...needs our help?"

Sandman frowned. Gingerly, he brushed the red light.

He could almost hear the child's plea.

 _Yes._ Sandman nodded. A golden compass materialized over his head. The arrow spun west.

 _An Otherland child needs our protection. We are going to Fantasia._

Tooth's muscles tensed. Her wings sharpened, ready for flight and ready to kick butt.

"Okay." Grinding her fists, Tooth approached the slumbering North and Bunny. "I'll wake up the boys."

* * *

...

* * *

Sinbad strummed his goatee.

"How _old_ do you think she is?"

Tulio glanced at Miguel. Miguel glanced at Dimitri. Dimitri glanced at Vlad. Vlad glanced at Marina.

Marina rolled her eyes. She zipped the rope about Sinbad's waist. "Really don't care Sinbad. But either way she's too young for you. Much younger than your skanky wife."

Sinbad grunted as the rope dug into his skin. Fidgeting, he hefted the three grappling hooks slung over his shoulder. _Okay, so Marina wasn't warming to the idea of Sarah. Whatever. That meant he was irresistible or Marina was just a drama queen. Probably a little of both, but mostly the former. Sinbad had to admit: he was pretty darn cute._

"Well somebody's Miss Cranky this evening. Okay fine." Sinbad turned starboard. "I'll ask the dunce-caps instead. _Hook_? _Ruber_? _Pitch-a-roony_? How old do you think you're little _she-captive_ is?"

Pitch, Ruber, and Captain Hook glowered at Sinbad. Telepathically they all mutilated him in the most painful way possible.

Then, Pitch glanced to the Jolly Roger's mainsail. Ruber's captives, the girl Kayley and magician Schmendrick, were bound thickly to the mast. Apathetically Pitch studied the girl. He smiled when Kayley met his gaze and growled through her gag.

"Why does her age matter?" Pitch crooned, blowing Kayley a kiss. A nightmare blew from his breath, and as it attacked Pitch watched Kayley's memory unfold. _A severed head – flakey dry eyes – a spinal cord hanging from a hacked throat – Sir Lionel – her father._

Sinbad withheld a compassionate shudder. He had spied on Kayley since boarding the _Jolly Roger._ It had only been a few hours, but in that time Sinbad had caught Kayley crying. Twice. And glimpsing the memory of her father's death, Sinbad didn't blame her. _That_ was cruel – even for a psychopathic murder like Ruber.

Forcing himself to ignore Kayley's nightmare, Sinbad returned to Pitch.

"You really like to amuse me, don't ya Pitch? Okay buddy. I'll tell you why her age matters – "

"And I'm sure it will be exhilarating." Pitch sarcastically said.

"Oh it IS Pitchy. It is at that. Tell me..."

Absently Sinbad twirled a hand. "What if I told you that Ruber's captive – Kayely – _looks_ like she's under 18? What if I explained that anyone under 18 in the Otherland, is considered a child? What if I further explained that children of the Otherland are granted magical protection from the Otherland guardians? And, what if I finally mentioned..."

Sinbad jerked his head towards the moon. "...I thought I heard sleigh bells?"

Miguel blinked. "I don't get it."

Dimitri groaned. "Santa Clause is coming to town, genius."

Half of _The Princess's_ crew brightened. "Santa?!"

"Guys." Sinbad hissed. "Zip it! We're on the naughty list."

"Aw."

Pitch was less appalled than Sinbad hoped. Quite the contrary: he looked delighted.

"So the guardians are coming to protect our dear little Kayley, are they?"

Pitch rolled to the mast. Languidly he stuck a finger inside Kayley's nightmare, pausing the memory. Then, with a twist, the memory _changed_. Sir Lionel's skin split from the seams; spiders crawled from his orifices; insides splurged out.

Sinbad stiffened as Kayley sobbed. Captain Hook's crew cheered, and they threw pieces of rope to mimic spiders jumping into her face. Unable to watch, Sinbad settled his gaze on Schmendrick battering lividly beside Kayley.

"Pitch." Sinbad whispered. "She gets it. Before you wake all of Fantasia with her screaming – that's enough."

Pitch released. He fondled the nightmare as Kayley slumped into her ropes.

"So. North, Bunny, Tooth, and Sandy are coming to the rescue." Pitch stroked the nightmare. "Good. My plan involves killing one of them anyway. _Let -The -Games-Begin_."

" _Talking -Statically -Does-Not- Make-You - Creepier._ " Sinbad mocked. Impatiently, he tugged his lifeline. "Come on Pitch. I'm ready. We've already been sighted by the Fantasian Coast Guard. There isn't much time before Triton comes after us. Let's get this show on the road. Remember my two favorite words..."

Sinbad pretended to swing a baseball bat. "Bombs away."

"Brilliant." Pitch sauntered between Ruber and Captain Hook. "Explain your strategy Sinbad."

Sinbad secured his scimitar strap. "It's simple. A four-year-old could understand my plan for invading Fantasia – so Ruber, you might need additional explanations later tonight."

Ruber growled. Sinbad flashed a cheesy smile that he hoped implied _'I am going to kill you someday.'_

"Any-hoo." Sinbad continued, pointing towards the mountainous shore. "See that gigundo cliff? The shiny iridescent one? _Fantasia School for the Magically Skewed_ is built into that cliff. Looks like they added another castle around the school, but that doesn't matter. Inside the school, there is a swimming pool. The pool drains into underground water tunnels. Those tunnels drain to here, the North Fantasian Sea."

Sinbad raised his grappling hooks. "These hooks are connected to my lifeline. Once I get through the underground tunnels, I'll anchor this baby inside the school. Pitch – you will be able to climb your evil little hiney all the way inside Fantasia."

Captain Hook added. "With the assistance of my mermaids, Misses Lana and Cordelia. They will expedite your journey. Ladies - introduce yourselves."

Sinbad glanced over the haul. The two beautiful mermaids with hideous empty eyes giggled and waved.

"Each to his own." Sinbad murmured, turning to Pitch. "Once you are in Fantasia you can find your merry way under the beds or whatever the Hell you plan to do. _Somehow_ Triton is evaded and Captain Hook attacks – bam. After that, Ruber attacks – bam. Hopefully Drago attacks with the Vikings – bam. Then you attack – bam, bam, bam. People scream, people die, blood flows like wine, you get the king, you get the four cauldron people, and I escape with Sarah no questions asked. _Right_?"

Pitch's eyes gleamed. "As long as you don't escape _permanently_ , then yes. Your strategy is perfect. Just remember Sinbad: _No running away_."

Pitch leaned as Sinbad raised a brow. "Are we clear, Sinbad?"

Sinbad peered. _No running away?_ Well that was a weird and coincidental statement, considering ' _running away'_ was exactly his intent. It was almost as if Pitch knew he was planning to...

Sinbad's stomach dropped. _Pitch knew. Pitch knew he planned to abandon ship (pun intended). Pitch knew. Darn it!_

Furiously Sinbad looked back. A gaggle of his crew (the alleged 'TEAM SINBAD' members) recoiled under his glare. Sinbad searched. _Someone_ had snitched. Somewhere amidst this loyal gathering, there hid a traitor.

Sinbad burned into every face. His eyes flicked from Tulio, to Miguel, to Marina, to Dimitri, to Eret, to Vlad. Finally, he just gave up.

 _'WHO TOLD?'_ Sinbad mouthed.

Tulio panicked. Miguel and Dimitri stared slack-jawed. Vlad and Eret pointed questionably at each other. Marina irritably sucked a cheek.

"Sinbad." Pitch glided forward. "Something amiss?"

Inwardly Sinbad groaned. _Great_. They were playing the _I-know-what-you're-up-to-but-I'm- going-to-pretend-not-to-noticed-until-I-actually-catch-you_ game _._ Sinbad did not like that game. He was good at winning it – he just didn't like it. Waste of energy. Waste of time. Waste of space.

"Nope." Climbing onto the bulwark, Sinbad squared to the Fantasian coast. If he squinted, he could just discern the outline of a castle. "I'm ready for take-off."

"Lovely." said Pitch. "Lovely, lovely. Give me Fantasia Sinbad, and remember – your little _princess_ is on the line."

Sinbad double knotted his bandanna. "Got it."

"Just one Fantasian Sinbad." Pitch reminded. "You may save _just one_."

 _Just one._

Sinbad paused. Suddenly – like a kick to the teeth – it occurred to him:

 _Jim was still alive._ Sinbad had been so obsessed with rescuing Sarah, he'd forgotten about his baby boy.

 _Baby?_

Seizing an overhanging shroud for balance, Sinbad swiftly calculated. _How old was Jim now? What, the kid was eleven-ish when he left...how many years had it been since...ten? So that would make Jim..._

Sinbad counted on his fingers ( _Math. Eh. Sarah's forte_.).

 _Twenty-one._ Astounded, Sinbad weighed his hand. _Jim was twenty-one._

 _Huh._

Sinbad grimaced. Then he brightened. Then he grimaced. Then he brightened again.

Then he was emotionless.

 _So Jim was twenty-one. Manhood. That was...interesting._

Sinbad debated. He baffled. He decided he didn't know what to think.

Luckily, he didn't have the opportunity.

"Oh and Sinbad." Ruber drove his fist into Sinbad's low back. "Have a nice swim."

Sinbad crumpled. Lifeline swishing behind, he plunged into the Northern Fantasian Sea –

-and swam for Fantasia.

* * *

 **...**

 **Big4girl poem:**

 _ **What a fool Sinbad is, I know what he's doing to get what's his. Darling Sinbad can't lie to me, I've got a snitch that he couldn't possibly believe. The guardians aren't expecting my plan, I won't return to my darkness, my outcasting ban. I'll put Fantasia into the Dark Ages, I'll feed of their fear, their happiness in cages. I'll give them a world were everything is Pitch Black, it's just as you feared….I'm back.**_

 **...**


	56. Chapter 56: More Than Words

**Chapter 56: More Than Words**

 _Splish. Splish. Splish._

Jim twitched as water droplets _splished_ into his ear. Blearily, he flumped a pillow over his head.

 _. Splish._

"Morph..." Jim moaned into the mattress. He flinched as water splattered across the pillow. "Morph it's too early for this."

Morph (snuggled in Jim's sock) snoozed dreamily unaware as water continued to rain down.

 _. Splish._

"Morph..."

 _. Splish._

"Morph."

 _. Splish._

"Morph!"

Tolerance threshold breeched, Jim flipped over. Raising his pillow to wallop Morph into a billion pink squiggles, Jim jolted as a thin trail of water sailed through the window and splashed into his forehead.

Jim could almost hear Ariel giggling.

He lowered the pillow. Sliding from the bedsheets and slicking water from his hair, he crossed to the window.

"Well." Jim leaned over the edge. He smiled as Ariel waved from below. "There's a beautiful girl."

Cheerfully, Ariel rolled her eyes. As always, Pirate's Point was blustery and Ariel had donned her green and purple beanie along with Jim's jacket to keep warm. She also carried her beach bag, which was stuffed to the brim (probably with squirt guns), and her trident. Each article was oversized, but Ariel still looked like a supermodel fresh off the runway.

Jim sighed. She was so beautiful.

"That was an interesting wake up call." Jim indicated to Ariel's squirt-gun. "Little damp."

Ariel twirled the squirt-gun behind her back. One eye squinted, she fired.

Jim dodged. He clapped the water as it streamed by. Ariel aimed again, and they repeated the sequence, laughing like children.

When Ariel was out of ammunition, Jim wrung his shirt. "You are deadly with that."

Proudly, Ariel pretended to blow smoke from the plastic tip. Touching a finger below her chin, she curtsied.

"Very few redheads can kill with a squirt gun." Jim teased.

Ariel curtsied again. _Thanks!_

Jim glanced over Pirate's Point. He scoped the shoreline. It was early dawn, but he worried the Tritons would notice Ariel's absence.

Returning to Ariel, Jim motioned to the drainpipe.

"Coming up?"

Ariel scrunched her nose. _Ugh. Drainpipe._ Disinclinations clear, she nevertheless stooped behind her beach bag, and produced two take-out coffees. The cardboard sleeves read _Tony's Caffè Espresso_.

" _Coffee_." Jim salivated: he could almost smell the dark, roasted aroma. Living in a household of tea-drinkers, a cup of coffee was pure gold. "Okay how much you want for it?"

Ariel hopped. She motioned downwards, careful not to spill the coffee. _Come here!_

Jim grinned. "Be right down."

Throwing on a hoodie and petting Morph (Morph cooed), Jim proceeded down the hall.

All was peaceful. John was an early bird, Michael was drooling into his blankets, and Sarah was waiting for her alarm to go off. Discreetly Jim skimmed every room, but he paused at Wendy's. Quietly, he peered inside.

Wendy was asleep ( _halleluiah_ ), but curled on her side without covers. Scanning the ceiling, Jim located the dreamcatcher swaying directly over her head. He grunted. The dreamcatcher had certainly worked – Wendy must've hit the pillow and zonked right out. She hadn't even prepared for bed.

Still, Jim could see Wendy's slumber had been restless; her curls were haywire, her bow was askew, one sock was off, the other was on it's way...

"Jesus." Jim entered the room. Stepping over Peter's shadow, he fished the bedding from under her. "It's called a blanket, Wen."

Wendy stirred as Jim prodded and tugged.

"...seven minutes..." she mumbled into the pillow. "...seven more."

Jim snuffed. _Seven minutes. Five was too few. Eight was too much. Ten was excessive. So it had to be precisely seven. Geeze. Classic W.M.A.D._

"Tell you what." Jim tucked the covers under Wendy's chin. "I'll give you seven and a half. Go back to – "

She was asleep before he finished.

"Sleep." Fatherly, Jim lingered. He couldn't help marveling how small Wendy looked beneath the big quilts.

"You're killing me." Sighing, Jim departed as Peter's shadow glared him out the door. "You are absolutely killing me."

Downstairs, the kitchen smelled like marmalade and earl-grey. John was buried in the morning paper, scouring the finance section for minor deviations in stock prices.

"Morning John."

John's top hat acknowledged with a bob. "Morning. Tea?"

"No thanks. Ariel's outside with coffee."

"Mhmmm." John disappeared into the paper. "Carry on."

Ariel was waiting, albeit impatiently on the front step. Sharing a good morning kiss, they strolled to the edge of Pirate's Point, coffees in hand.

"How do you feel?" Jim asked, holding a hand against the wind. "Any different?"

Ariel plucked his hoodie. _Silly._ she mouthed. _It doesn't happen overnight!_

"I thought that was the idea."

 _Oh. Yeah!_ Ariel sat, hanging her legs off Pirate's Point. _Good catch!_

Jim sighed. Ariel _astounded_ him. Per Ariel's 'wish,' they had embarked on a secret... _experiment_. Jim was nervous wreck, but Ariel was happily evolving. Incredible. Her ability to adapt was _incredible_.

Deciding to change the terrifying subject, Jim joined Ariel at the edge. Immediately she started to cuddle.

"What you say to your Dad?" Jim asked, alluding to Admiral Triton's hunt for Ariel the previous night. "Anything convincing?"

Ariel balanced her trident over the beach bag. _Nothing really. Just told Daddy I was out. Besides – Arista was in hot water. I lucked out._

"What Arista do?"

Ariel shrugged. _What Arista always does. Trouble. She's like grounded for life._

Jim scoffed, recalling Arista's gossip regarding Peter and Wendy. "Serves her right."

Ariel nodded. She sipped her cappuccino. _Agreed._

Dawn expanded into the stars. The sky was brilliantly striped with neon blues, pinks, and purples.

 _Gosh that's pretty!_ Appreciatively, Ariel waved her trident across the radiant sunrise. _Nice job Peter!_

Jim glared over his coffee lid. "Don't know who he's trying to impress. She's asleep."

 _Wendy?_ Ariel tapped her temple. _Any nightmares?_

"Actually no." Jim admitted. "Peter delivered on this one. The dreamcatcher worked."

 _Good!_ Ariel clapped. _Now YOU can get some sleep!_

"Ha. Yeah. But Wen needs it more – she was out like a log." Jim rotated the cardboard sleeve around his cup. "She knew it was me."

 _Duh._ Ariel elbowed. _A rock would have known it was you_.

Lightly, Jim elbowed back. Returning silently to their coffees, Jim contemplated and Ariel waited for him to divulge. Jim was thinking so hard she could feel his brainwaves vibrating.

"I dunno Ariel." Exasperated, Jim scuffed his rattail. "Wen's driving me insane with this Peter thing."

 _She's driving YOU insane?!_ Soundlessly, Ariel laughed. To Jim's confusion, she explained. _Jim – you are acting like my Daddy! Leave – Wendy – alone!_

"I'm acting like —?" Jim spilled his coffee. Yelping – partially from indignation and partially because the coffee was scalding hot – he vehemently denied. "I am not! How could you say that?"

 _I didn't!_ Ariel pointed smugly to her throat. _No voice._

"You know what I mean. Ariel, you don't get it. Wendy – "

 _Is your friend!_ Ariel mouthed, ensuring her articulations were crispy clear. _Not your daughter!_

"But Pan is after her." Jim set his coffee. "Ariel, I know Wendy. She's smart as a whip, but god for some reason she's built this fantasy around Pan. Ever since high school she's let Peter walk all over her. He treats her like – "

Interrupting him, Ariel counted on her fingers.

 _Like she's beautiful, attractive, desirable_ –

"It's a _game_ he plays." Jim pressed. "Peter told me himself."

 _Yeah._ Ariel waved her hands. _Like six years ago._

"Ariel, you know Peter's reputation – "

 _People change!_ Ariel insisted. _You did!_

"Ariel." Jim propped on a knee. "Just listen. I've thought this through and in every scenario, Wendy gets hurt. They're not like us, Ariel. They don't have what we have. But even if they did, what if Peter leaves her? What if Peter forces her in bed? What if he lies, cheats, plays with her -"

Ariel soundlessly groaned. _Jimmmmmmmm!_

"If any of that happens, if Wendy gets hurt," Helplessly Jim gestured at the fading stars. "Then I won't be there for her. Ariel, we are _leaving_ tomorrow night. And if Wendy goes back to the Underworld heartbroken because Peter just wanted to have a little fun, _I won't be there_."

Ariel smacked the ground. _How do you know it's not love?_

Jim contorted. "What?"

 _How do you know Wendy and Peter aren't in love?_

Jim turned to ice.

"Ariel. _That_ is why I'm scared." Inadvertently, Jim touched his chest. "I _know_ Wendy loves him. She loves him more than she's loved anything in her entire life. More than John, more than Michael, more than her mom, more than me. Ariel, Wendy _loves_ Peter. I can see it, clear as day. But..."

Jim's voice was queasy, revolted. "Peter doesn't love her."

Ariel frowned. _How do you know?_

"Because I asked. And Wen told me..." Painfully, Jim finished. "Peter's never said I love you."

Ariel's red hair wove like thread across her deep blue eyes. Then, tearfully, she pointed to her throat.

 _Neither have I, Jim._

It was unclear who the comment hurt more. Ariel hadn't made a sound, but for the sting her words created, it was as if she screamed.

"...Ariel." Jim stared. "Ariel I – haven't I – don't you _know_ , I know?"

Ariel's tears flicked into the sea.

 _I bet you'd like to hear it. Once._

Jim's heart broke.

"Babe..." Gently, Jim eased Ariel against him. When she resisted, he pulled, holding her inside powerful arms. "Ariel. Baby."

Of the guardians, Ariel had sacrificed the most. True, they had all lost each other, and in Wendy's case, her family. But, Ariel had sacrificed the most cherished piece of _herself_ : her voice.

Ariel's voice had been her identity. Melodious, bubbly, vital, and strong, her voice sparkled from the humdrum of everyday sound. The first time Jim heard Ariel speak, he saw colors. Her voice was that vibrant.

Ariel had used her voice as a vehicle for connecting to the world, for fostering relationships, for expression...and for song. Jim had never heard Ariel sing. But Wendy had, in school concerts and chorus recitals – and apparently Ariel could _SING_. Wendy's accounts had been almost reverent; _Ariel_ _sings like an angel_ Wendy had said.

Jim sighed. Ariel's lost voice was like an angel losing its wings. It was sinful. Utterly sinful.

But following her initial shock, Ariel had evolved. Refusing to be unheard she mastered the art of non-verbal expression. And outwardly Ariel appeared happy, at peace with her silence.

But she was not. Ariel missed her voice. She wanted to speak. She wanted to sing. She wanted to tell Jim, just once, _I love you._

Jim stroked Ariel's hair. Over her shoulder, he saw her beach bag – a paper pad and purple marker peeking over the brim.

Jim considered the writing utensils. Then, he adjusted. Cradling Ariel between his legs and against his chest, he opened the pad and started to write. When the message was complete, he tore the paper and handed Ariel the strip.

 **So I heard a song on the radio last night. Reminded me of you. Wanna hear?**

Ariel read his small, blocky script. Rubbing her tears, she frowned perplexedly as Jim continued to write. _Wanna hear? Was he going to sing? Yikes._

Jim ripped a second note. And as Ariel read the song title and lyrics, Jim pointed to each word and whistled the tune.

 **More Than Words**

 **Sayin' I love you**

 **Is not the words I want to hear from you**

 **It's not that I want you**

 **Not to say it, but if you only knew**

While he whistled, Jim scribbled. Fluidly drawing a third paper scrap, he continued to point and whistle.

 **How easy it would be to show me how you feel**

 **More than words is all you have to do to make it real**

 **Then you wouldn't have to say that you love me**

 **Cause I'd already know**

Jim folded his arms around Ariel, propping the pad against their knees. Unable to remember the chorus, he continued with the verse, whistling as he wrote.

 **Now that I've tried to talk to you and make you understand**

 **All you have to do is close your eyes**

 **And just reach out your hands and touch me**

 **Hold me close don't ever let me go**

Jim paused. Squeezing Ariel he underlined the next lyric, praying she would believe.

 **More than words is all I ever needed you to show**

Ariel smiled. As she turned into Jim, he dropped the paper and pen. Embracing Ariel on the windy cliff, he whispered the final lines.

"Then you wouldn't have to say that you love me. Cause I already know."

Ariel kissed Jim's cheek. _I love you_ she mouthed into his ear.

Jim smiled. He'd memorized the way _I love you_ felt.

"I already know."

* * *

 **...**

 **Big4girl poem:**

 _ **If I didn't have you, my life would be grey. If I didn't have you I'd be the same way I was everyday. If there wasn't change, I'd never had rearranged my life. I love you, I know it's true and I don't have to hear it, I just have to know it. I know it's true, Ariel I love you too.**_

 **...**

* * *

 **sultal's note: I recommend this YouTube version of this song. The kid can sing. ""** **More Than Words - Extreme (Official Cover by John Jorge) ""**


	57. Chapter 57: Guilt Trip

**Chapter 57: Guilt Trip**

Jim met Lilo on the threshold.

"Aloha!" Lilo saluted. Stitch squirmed inside her backpack as she pointed at Ariel departing from Pirate's Point. "We saw you kissing!"

"Oh yeah?" Unabashed, Jim smiled. He didn't mind kids – their honesty was refreshing. "How'd I do?"

Lilo lifted nine fingers. Stitch raised four. "Nine out of ten. Your hair got in the way."

"Fair enough." Jim opened the door. "You want in?"

"Sure!" Backpack (and Stitch) bouncing, she pranced over the front step. "Beats waiting for Michael outside! T- Y!"

"T - Y?"

"Thank you."

"Ah. Solid. Y-W."

Lilo and Stitch snickered.

"The cool way to abbreviate ' _you're welcome'_ is U-W." Lilo informed him.

Jim considered. Then he shrugged. "T- Y."

"Ha!" Lilo slapped him high five. "U-W, J-H!"

"Is that Lilo?" Sarah called from the kitchen. Jim's boots nearly blew off as Lilo bellowed. "YUP! IT'S ME!"

"OHUFI!" Stitch yapped.

"STITCH SAYS ALOHA!" Lilo translated.

Sarah peered around the kitchen corner. Smiling, she pressed a finger to her lips. "Indoor voice Honey."

"Oops!" Lilo and Stitch covered their mouths. "Sorry!" Lilo whispered loudly.

"Soka!" added Stitch, scampering from Lilo and nuzzling Sarah's leg. "Sokaaaaaaaaa!"

Sarah scratched Stitch's ear. His little tail waggled. Apparently they were old friends.

"Apology accepted. Stitch there's a cupcake in the fridge, _if_ you use a napkin. Lilo..." Sarah rose as Stitch darted for the refrigerator. "Wendy's cooking breakfast. Are you hungry?"

Lilo sniffed. Deeming the breakfast aroma edible, she hefted her backpack. "I could eat! Is Mike ready yet?"

On cue, Michael swung around the corner. Jim grinned, recognizing the nervous stutter kick-starting his greeting. "Hi Lilo - er aloha! I just saw Stitch, so I knew it was you! Want some breakfast?"

"Sure." Lilo flicked her thick hair. Jim noticed she smoothed it twice, revealing pink hibiscus earrings that did not match her surfing windbreaker and ripped capris. "What's for eats?"

Michael escorted Lilo into the kitchen. As they entered (oblivious to Jim and Sarah spying behind) he pointed to Wendy. "Scrambled eggs. Wendy is it all right if Lilo eats too?"

Wendy looked from the stove. Fully dressed (she'd never come down in pajamas), she smiled quickly at Sarah and Jim before responding.

"Of course. Good morning Lilo. Rather – aloha."

Again Lilo saluted. " _Allllllloha_! You look different in normal clothes! But I totally dug those boots you were wearing at the ceremony yesterday. Rad!"

Returning to the eggs, Wendy laughed. "Why, thank you. I'm fond of them too. But, it does feels wonderful wearing shoes again. Have a seat – breakfast will be ready in a minute. More or less."

"Thank you Wendy." Michael drew a chair for Lilo. Politely he gestured. "Sit?"

Lilo absolutely beamed. "Sure! T - Y!"

"U - W. And uh..." Michael ground his foot. "I really like your earrings."

"Puh. _These_?" Flippantly, Lilo accepted the chair Michael offered. But as he scooted her in, she fist-bumped Stitch under the table. "They're Nani's. _Totally_ forgot I was wearing them. Hey! I took a zillion photos of chewed gum I found in school. I got like EVERY color. Wanna see?"

As Lilo shared her photos, Wendy bit back a smile. Deftly serving their scrambled eggs, she turned to Sarah and Jim.

"Good morning. Breakfast?"

"None for me." Sarah poured a cup of coffee. "I'm off to work in a few. Once these two trouble makers are ready for school."

Michael and Lilo groaned. But as Stitch hopped into Sarah's lap, Lilo spread her chewed-gum photo collection for Mrs. Hawkins admire.

Wendy lingered on the scene, almost enviously. It was so...what was the word Peter had used?... _homey_. Just like a real family.

Wendy sighed. Then, pushing all anxieties aside, she tilted the frying pan towards Jim.

"Hungry?"

Jim was not. The imminent confrontation with Sinbad had his stomach raw with worry. But, Wendy looked hopeful.

"Yeah." Passing to the breadbox he rubbed her shoulder. "Smells awesome. You want toast?"

Wendy scraped the pan. "Please."

"Tea?"

"That would be lovely. Where is Ariel? I hope you didn't leave her outside."

Jim set the toaster. "No. She went to King Arthur's castle...How'd you know I was with Ariel?"

Wendy made a little noise. Dividing the eggs onto two plates, she smiled. "Please, Jim. Obvious."

"I saw them kissing!" Lilo sang. Impersonating Elvis Presley, she crooned. " _Jim's just a hunk, a hunk of burning love_!"

Jim raised a brow. "Lilo. _Don't be cruel to a heart's that true_."

"AH!" Lilo and Michael high-fived. "Elvis! He quoted The King! Mike your step brother is so cool!"

Michael grinned. "I told you he was a _devil in disguise_!"

Lilo was in her element. " _Devil in Disguise_! ELVIS! That's my favorite song!" Elatedly, she whacked Michael's chest. "Mike _you're_ a devil in disguise!"

"Ih." agreed Stitch, licking frosting from his cupcake wrapper. Sweetly, he offered the wrapper to Sarah. He ate it when she said "You know where the trash bin is, Mister."

Outside, something went _clop-clop_. It was accompanied by a whinny.

"Okay kids." Checking her watch, Sarah tapped the table. "I think I hear Delbert with Delilah. Lilo, you can ride with Michael and Dr. Doppler to school. Let's go: plates rinsed in the sink and backpacks on."

"Aw." Lilo gathered her photos. "I wish we could skip school today. Mike and I still have to plan our Halloween costumes, and we have like NO time."

"We have to use John's computer." Michael explained, setting his dish in the sink. "Pinterest."

 _Pop._ As the toaster sprung, Jim spoke. "Hey Chief - why not have Lilo and Stitch come over tonight? It's Friday. Plus, I'm bringing Ariel here after our date. She wanted to play board-games, it should be fun. Mom – that okay?"

Sarah blinked. Wendy looked similarly astounded. (1) Jim was initiating a social gathering; (2) Jim was being openly romantic; and (3) Jim said ' _board-games_ ' and ' _fun'_ in the same sentence. That was...uncharacteristic; if not unprecedented.

"Well." Slowly, Sarah buttoned her business jacket. "That depends, Jim. How does Ariel's father feel about this?"

Michael, Lilo, and Stitch looked at Jim. _Drama central. They loved it._

"We..." Jim selected his words delicately. "We...were respectfully...not...going...to tell him."

Michael, Lilo, and Stitch looked back at Sarah. _Drama! Mark set go!_

"Respectfully." Jim reiterated as the tea kettle boiled. "I mean – it's for his own health. We don't want Admiral Triton to die of stroke or anything."

Wendy grinned behind her hand. She pressed her lips apologetically as Sarah frowned.

Jim revised and repeated.

"Ariel just wants to spend a little time with us. Specifically, you." Dolefully, Jim chipped the toast. "Before we leave."

Sarah's frown softened. Defeated, she fastened her last button. " _Monopoly_ or _Apples to Apples_?"

"Yes!" Lilo and Michael celebrated. Stitch hugged Sarah's leg. "Yes! Yes! YES! Game night!"

"Lilo's on my team!"

"Mike's on mine!"

"Stitch can help us cheat!"

"Meega nala kweesta!" Stitch cheered.

"John will be thrilled." Sarcastically, Sarah ushered Michael and Lilo from the kitchen. "I'll call Tigerlily. She'll be able to coax him into having fun, I'm sure."

"Great. Thanks Mom. And...um..." Jim cleared his throat. Focusing on cutting the toast, he swallowed an enormous lump of pride. "Maybe Peter can come."

Wendy almost dropped their breakfast. "Maybe -? _Pardon_?"

"Sure." Forcibly, Jim managed not to grimace. Remembering Ariel's advice, he set the toast on the table. "I mean, you two are like...dating...ish. Sorta. Right?"

Wendy was flabbergasted. "Yes." she faintly agreed. "Sorta."

"Okay." Moving to camouflage his revulsion, Jim prepared Wendy's tea. "Once Peter gets back from the Otherland – invite him over."

Wendy looked at Sarah. Sarah was slack jawed. Michael, Lilo, and Stitch were enthralled. _MORE drama? They were living a soap opera! How lucky could they get?!_

"Jim..." Wendy peered. "Are you feeling all right?"

Jim steeped her tea. "Yup. Never better. You and Peter are a...thing. So he should come."

Michael, Lilo, and Stitch looked at Wendy. _Say yes! Say yes! Drama at game night!_

"Well..." Wendy smoothed her jeans. Jim suddenly noticed: she was wearing an apron. "Well, that does sound lovely. And I'm sure Peter would enjoy board-games. But...um..."

Wendy fingered her apron. Suddenly, her gaze fell. "I'm afraid...we can't."

"Aw." Michael, Lilo, and Stitch sagged. "Bummer."

"Naga bootifa" Stitch mumbled.

The doorbell rang. Distractedly, Sarah turned.

"That'll be Delbert. Okay kids, out the door. Michael, Lilo, Stitch let's go. Jim, Wendy – you sort this out?"

Wendy nodded. Contritely, she traced the table edge.

"Okay." Sarah shouldered her bag. "I'll see you both tonight – have a good day. Michael, Lilo remember – seat-belts in that carriage."

The door shut. An uncomfortable silence followed.

"Wen..." Carefully, Jim set the tea on the table. "Wen...if it's me..."

"No! Oh goodness no!" Earnestly, Wendy shook her head. "No Jim, I'm so, _so_ very _utterly_ happy you offered. Truly, I am. But you see...Well Peter's returning late tonight. And I promised to make him dinner. At Flynn and Rapunzel's house...I think. We didn't exactly decide where...In any case, it's just the two of us."

"Oh." Jim sat. Wendy followed. As she passed his eggs, he passed her tea. "So you already had plans."

" _Yes_." Wendy said, sounding relieved. "Yes, we did. For dinner – just dinner. Peter seemed quite excited. I honestly don't think he's eaten a properly prepared meal before."

Jim _hmphed_. Keeping his thoughts to himself, he motioned to the breakfast. "Was this practice for tonight?"

Wendy laughed. She glanced at her apron. "A little. In a way. Peter has...specific tastes."

"Shocker. What are you having for dinner? Doritos and lollipops?"

"Not far off..." Wendy murmured, sipping her tea. "He requested SpaghettiOs, tater tots, dinosaur shaped chicken nuggets, lemon-lime Kool Aid, and Gushers."

"...bring a stomach pump."

" _Smch_!" Wendy laughed into her tea. She grabbed her mouth as it spluttered.

Jim smiled as she choked. "Sorry. Joke. So uh...what time do you think you'll be back?"

Wendy's hilarity faded. _Instantly_.

"Back?"

Jim frowned as she debated. "Wen? You are coming back tonight. Right?"

"Yes." Wendy replied hurriedly. She raised her tea, hiding a blush. "Of course. That's a silly question."

Jim waited. "Okay. So what time?"

Wendy clenched the mug. "It...depends. Whenever we're finished. After all...I'm not certain when Peter will be back. But it will be late...I imagine."

Jim nodded. "Fair. But do you mind putting a qualifier on that ' _late_?'"

"Why?"

"So I don't have to worry about you."

"Jim...it's only dinner."

"Okay, so conservative estimate."

"Midnight."

" _Midnight_?" Jim said. "For a microwavable dinner?"

"Midnight." Wendy repeated, a little shortly. "I...it should...yes midnight."

Jim's protective instincts itched.

"Wen I think midnight's a little – " Jim stopped. Suddenly understanding the parallel, he remembered Ariel's comparison on Pirate's Point: _Jim – you are acting like my Daddy! Leave – Wendy – alone!_

Jim bit his tongue. Calmly, he returned to his eggs. "I think...midnight is good."

"...do you?"

He could hear the dubiousness in her voice. Ignoring his inner turmoil, Jim verified.

"Yes. I do. I mean...if you're willing to stomach SpaghettiOs, Kool Aid, and Gushers..." Jim forced a smile. "Then I'm good if you're good."

Wendy picked at her eggs. After a moment, she questioningly glanced. "You're being awfully...um... _cordial_ about this. Are you sure nothing is wrong?"

"Sure." Jim lied. "Sure I'm sure nothing is wrong."

"Because if you don't think I should go –" Wendy tremored, almost pleading. "Then I won't, Jim. I won't. If you think I should stay then I will, absolutely, just say the word – "

"As long as you are safe and get back when you expect..." Jim interrupted before she could dissuade him. "Then you should go. I trust you. And Peter hasn't tried anything, right?"

"Well...not exac...no. He hasn't."

"Okay." Fork chinking into the plate, Jim attempted lightheartedness. "Ta da. And we all live happily ever after."

Wendy nodded. Downcast, she poked at her food.

Jim nudged under the table. "You okay?"

"Yes." she said. "Just..."

"Surprised?"

"A bit. A lot. Quite a lot. And..."

Suddenly Wendy looked up. Business-like, she set her fork. "Jim –"

She paused. He waited.

"Wen?"

Wendy pursed her lips. Determined, she tried again. "Jim – Jim there's something – "

Again she paused. Jim leaned.

"Wendy?"

Wendy closed her eyes. Haggardly she retrieved the fork.

"Nothing." she replied softly. "Just...you've hardly eaten a bite."

Jim looked. His plate was full. But, so was Wendy's.

"Neither have you. You nervous?"

"About?"

Jim grazed the fork. Breathing deeply, he replied. "...Sinbad."

Wendy gazed, pityingly. Reaching over the table, she took his hand.

"You don't have to do this, Jim."

 _Tempting_. Her reassurance was _so_ tempting. And perhaps it was because Wendy was touching him, but as Jim contemplated, he relived a dark memory – a memory of his father running away, and never coming back. And _another_ memory, one that haunted him - Admiral Triton snarling in his face:

 _'Like father like son. Spitting image. Father and son – they're all the same! Spineless, savage, law-breaking scum of the sea! Criminals incapable of feeling anything but lust and exploit! No family! No feelings! And no future! Jim Hawkins...son of Sinbad.'_

 _Son of Sinbad._

Jim closed his eyes. Son of Sinbad - it was his condemnation. It was the reason he was worthless for Ariel's love. Everything - all his despair and all his misfortune - was because Jim Hawkins was Sinbad's son.

"No." Jim exhaled. "No, I said I would so I will. I can protect Fantasia from him."

Wendy squeezed. "It's going to be all right, Jim. After all...I'll be with you...and..."

Weakly, she mimed a punch. "And I've been working on my left hook."

Jim blinked. Then he laughed. _Wendy punching Sinbad? he would LOVE to see._

"Okay, slugger." Rising, Jim whistled for Morph. "Call your shadow-grim-reaper 's go find that son of a bitch."

* * *

 **...**

 **Big4girl poem:**

 ** _Lilo and Michael sitting in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G! First came friends, then came crush, Michael's growing up this is just too much! Lilo's so cute and Michael's so sweet, there isn't anything these two can't beat. Maybe except, a lingering thought. Love is bringing, but far away from brought. This is the start of something new, but do either of them have a clue?_**

 ** _..._**


	58. Chapter 58: Let Me Be Your Wings

**sultal's note: Ack! Beginning of chapter notes! Shuuuudddddder. Anyway - lots of questions on Peter's "virginity" slash lack there of. See below!**

* * *

 **Chapter 58: Let Me Be Your Wings**

If James Bond went jedi knight, he _might_ rival Agent Cobra Bubbles, but the odds would probably trend towards Cobra. Agent Bubbles' prowess in physical and psychological combat surpassed any foe –

Even foes that could not be seen –

Jack Frost, for example.

In a word: Agent Cobra Bubbles was not stupid. _Clearly_ Lady Elsa was cavorting with… someone. _Who_ that someone was and _why_ he could not be seen was irrelevant. Agent Bubbles treated all foes without discrimination.

Lady Elsa's secret cavorter had to go bye-bye.

"Until you talk," Agent Bubbles steered Elsa into a confined bed chamber. "Then you're here until the wedding. But we can make this simple: introduce me to your phantom buddy, and you go free."

Elsa thrashed from Agent Bubbles. Ice sparkled over the windowless walls – the bed chamber was not unpleasant, but it was enclosed. Elsa was trapped.

"I had permission from the king to leave the castle!" Elsa sliced King Arthur's note from her pocket. Furiously, she pointed to his signature. "He said I could go anywhere I please, without – "

"Without His Majesty?" Agent Bubbles scanned the room, searching for frost – the telltale sign Elsa's the mysterious intruder. "Without His Majesty and _with_ your phantom friend? King Arthur approved of that, did he?"

Elsa bristled. "I don't know who you're talking about. What phantom – "

"Lie." Agent Bubbles dissected Elsa's behavior in seconds. "Your head jerked before responding, your respiratory rate increased, your accessory inspiratory muscles are firing, and you're not blinking. Your Grace, I'm a pro – and you are a liar. Among…other things."

" _Other things_?" Ice pierced Elsa's fingertips. " _Such as_?"

Agent Bubbles allowed himself to be amused.

"Ask your phantom friend." he said, closing the door. "And then tell it to your future husband."

The lock clicked. A pause. Then ice shattered the inside panel. A draft, colder than sin, eeked under the threshold and across the castle hall as Elsa cried.

Agent Bubbles listened. If he expressed any emotion, it was concealed behind his black frames. Rule number one of the secret services: Do _not_ get emotionally involved. Emotions create clutter; emotions bewilder the mind; emotions endanger.

Emotions are what get people killed. Prime example: a snow queen with uncontrollable powers. Or a shadow worker losing her mind.

Monotonously, Agent Bubbles spoke into the door.

"Sunrise is at 7:10 am. You've got a rendezvous with Edna Mode in the morning – wedding dress fitting. I'll drop you there, then report to His Majesty. He'll have to know about tonight."

Agent Bubbles waited for a response. None came, but a thin sheet of frost tiptoed around the corner and across the floor. Sliding a hand under his breast pocket, Agent Bubbles continued.

"King Arthur is getting all the details. Every single one. Including a full account of the phantom your hiding. But… if I were to take a wild guess..."

Agent Bubbles withdrew an object from his pocket. As he finished, the object remained concealed his enormous hands. "Then I'd guess King Arthur would forgive you. No questions ask. He might even still look forward to your wedding."

The frost inched closer. Agent Bubbles twisted the object in his hands.

"You've got two hours, Your Grace. Get some sleep. I'll tell your phantom friend he's not welcome here."

Stepping wide, Agent Bubbles squared to the frost. Revealing a tube of _IcyHot_ , he uncapped the cream and squirted.

* * *

… … … **.**

* * *

"WHOA!"

Jack dodged as Agent Bubbles' attacked him with the _IcyHot_. The cream popped like toothpaste, plastering Jack's foot as he scampered up the wall.

At first the cream felt delightful – nice and cool. Jack laughed, and he dared Agent Bubbles to " _sock it to him again!_ " Dumb secret agent. The cold didn't bother Jack – the cream was refreshing, crispy, cool and –

-and then it burned.

"OW!"

For those that don't know (like Jack Frost) _IcyHot_ is a medical cream often used by athletes (like Cobra Bubbles) for muscles soreness. The mechanism of _IcyHot_ is a 'no-brainer' : first the cream feels icy, and then it feels hot. _Duh._

But for a wintry spirit like Jack, first the cream felt wonderful (icy) and then it hurt like Hell (hot). Jack was not Olaf - heat was not exciting.

"Ow, ow, ow, ow, ow, ow, ow, ow, ow, ow, ow, OW!"

Jack tumbled from the castle. Plummeting eleven flights down, he splattered onto the parapet in a flurry of frost. Agent Bubbles immediately sent reinforcements, and as Mulan dispatched the secret security forces, Jack hobbled on one leg trying to douse his burning foot.

"Okay I get it!" Conjuring a snowball, Jack leapt into the wind and pitched it at Agent Bubbles. He growled (half with anger and half with respect) as Agent Bubbles caught the snowball and squelshed it to a drippy pulp.

"Message sent! Loud and clear! You freaking dinosaur bulldozer crossbreed …"

Jack made several unsuccessful attempts to reenter the castle before giving up. Agent Bubbles had alerted the castle of Jack's presence. All the king's horses and all the king's men had been armed with tubes of _IcyHot_ should _"the invisible frost phantom_ " reappear. So, considering himself 'busted,' Jack murmured farewell to Elsa and sailed into the early morning dawn.

Although Jack worried for Elsa, the retreat was beneficial. His adventure in Fantasia had been a whirlwind thus far: Jack needed to think. Especially after that girl… Wendy… touched his shadow…

Jack cringed. _What was that? What had she done? How had she done it?_ _And…what did it mean?_

When Wendy touched his shadow, an image had burst inside Jack's head. Jack had seen a little girl, floundering on ice skates, tears in her eyes, ice cracking beneath her. And as the little girl looked up at him, Jack heard her sob: _"No! You always play tricks!"_

Jack clenched his chest. An overwhelming, terrifying feeling of _self-loathing_ soaked his insides. Jack did not recognize the little girl…but he knew she was scared…and he knew…she had been crying because she was afraid...she was afraid Jack would trick her...and she would fall through the ice.

Again, Jack wondered: _what had Wendy done to him_? The image had been fleeting, and painful – like a nail gun through the eye. _What was it? A mirage? An illusion? A nightmare?_

Jack pressed his forehead against his staff. The image had almost resembled a nightmare, a nightmare in which Jack knew he was dreaming but could not awaken. But…how could that be? Pitch Black was the master of nightmares… right? Was it just coincidental that North had spotted Pitch Black, just as Jack met a Fantasian guardian that shared the Boogie Man's powers?

And furthermore… how had Elsa stopped Wendy? In _Tiana's Palace_ , when the shadows had stuck to Wendy like glue, Elsa had cracked them apart? _How?_

Jack gazed at the castle. Wind blew through his ice-white hair as a blizzard blew through his mind.

Elsa. The snow queen. Whatever he and Elsa shared, whether it was friendship, romance, or a mysterious in-between, Jack did not know: but he _did_ know it was special. Both were trapped: Elsa was trapped inside her obligations, and Jack was trapped outside of the world. They had connected through mystical powers and simple understanding of each other's pain. They were each other's distractions; they were each other's freedom.

Jack rubbed a cheekbone against his staff. Was it love? Tooth had given him hope it might be. But...

Jack thought of the king - Arthur. In just one day, Elsa would blossom into his beautiful bride….leaving Jack a lonely Romeo.

"Depressing." Jack mused, swinging his staff. He glanced back. Deciding it safer to invade the castle during daylight (when the sun could melt his frost), Jack catapulted into the sky.

He smacked into Peter Pan.

Both boys were personally offended.

"How – " Jack teetered in the wind. "Do you always get in my traffic lane?"

Peter sheathed his dagger. "This is _my_ sky. Buzz off, Snowflake!"

"Name calling. Real mature."

"Immaturity is my M.O., Frosty."

"Oooo! And the elf becomes an entertainer! CO-MEE-DI-AN!" Flipping over, Jack trailed Peter as he skimmed over misty clouds. "Give up the guardian gig – you've got a future."

Swooping upwards, Peter darkly agreed. "Damn right I do. Dumb Wishing Star. Hey Frosty, c'mere."

Peter swirled around a cloud, fluffing it like ice-cream. Perching at the tiptop, he faced the eastern horizon with withdrew a box of crayons.

"Here – " Fishing out a sky blue crayon, Peter offered it to Jack. "Do your frost thing. Make it twinkle."

"Make it _twinkle_?" Jack hopscotched over his staff. "Is twinkle one of the bigger words in your vocabulary?"

"Just make the damn crayon twinkle! Hurry up, the sun's about to rise!"

Jack shrugged. Twirling his staff, he nicked the crayon (making sure to frost Peter's fingers just for posterity's sake).

"Hm." Peter scrutinized the crayon. Spinning it once over his fingers, he swiped the crayon across the morning sky. "Well, I guess you tried."

Jack was incredulous. Preparing a witty retort that would knock Peter Pan from the sky, he suddenly noticed what Peter was doing: Peter was coloring.

With every stroke, light blue bands (sparkling with frost) followed the tip of the crayon. When he was through, Peter twiddled the crayon like a wand. Pleased, he repeated the sequence with pink and purple.

Now, Jack was miffed with Peter. But even he had to admit –

"That is cool."

Peter grinned. "I know. Wanna try?"

"Yeah!"

"Too bad." Peter returned to the sky blue crayon. "Skyworld perk. Achievable only by The One and Only Pan. Uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh – huh! There!"

With a final flourish, Peter dusted a hand across the sky. Magically, the colors blended into a beautiful dawn.

"Perfect." Peter said, hands on his hips. Then, without warning he thumped his chest and crowed.

"CRAAWWWHH! AWH AAHHH! AWH AAAAAAAAAAAAHHHH! UP AND AT 'EM! CRAAWWWHH! AWH AAHHH! AWH AAAAAAAAAAAAHHHH!"

Jack waited, fingers in his ears.

"Well." He said as Peter dashed away. "That was dramatic."

"Correction..." Peter zipped through a curtain of seagulls. The flock squawked, and Peter laughed. Continuing eastward, he increased speed. "That was awesome, incredible, wonderful, marvelous, amazing. Just ask Wendy. She thinks I'm great."

"Wendy." Jack pumped his legs, urging the wind to carry him with Peter. It was challenging – Peter was fast. "You're fiancé? Right?"

"Yup. Lucky girl."

"I'll bet."

"She's cooking dinner for me tonight." Peter said, snaking under rays of sunshine. Almost dreamily he added. "God. _Please_ let there be an apron."

Jack struggled to maintain pace. At Peter's speed, even the wind had to catch it's breath. "What's the deal with her anyway?"

"Who? Wendy?"

"Yeah." Jack rubbed his sternum, remembering the scared little girl in ice skates. "What did she do to me? When she touched my shadow?"

Peter slowed, just a touch.

"Wendy is a shadow worker."

"Shadow worker?"

"Yeah. Know what that is?"

Jack frowned, remembering a conversation with North, Bunny, and Tooth. They had mentioned shadow workers during a discussion concerning Pitch. Tooth and North had spoken morosely of shadow workers. Bunny had been down-right insulting.

"Shadow worker…" Jack attempted a definition. "Shadow manipulator?"

Scathingly, Peter laughed. "Sorta. Shadows are your inner demon – part of your soul. Wendy can tear them from people."

"Whoa."

"Yeah."

"Intense."

"Crap load. Wendy ripped off my shadow six years ago. She _still_ has it!"

Quickly Jack looked down. As they soared over clouds, he noticed: Peter did not cast a shadow.

"Wendy has your shadow?" Jack verified. "Your soul?"

"Yup!"

"And you're marrying her?"

"Gotta!" Peter flicked his silver thimble. "She's just so darn cute! Plus, she probably won't let me touch her otherwise!"

"Okay, things just got a _little_ too personal for Jack Frost."

"Ha! Can ya blame a guy?! Been on my mind."

"Why am I not surprised…."

Peter's blue, pink, and purple dawn began mixing with golden sunlight. As morning yawned over Fantasia, Jack recognized a stone wall looming in the distance. The Great Wall. The partition between the Otherland and Fantasia.

Shrewdly Jack glanced up. Peter's trajectory was clear; he was headed for the Otherland.

"So…" Jack cleared his throat. "Why did I see something bad when Wendy touched my shadow?"

Peter brushed feathers from his eyes. "Shadows are demons. Bad souls. Bad memories."

"Memories?"

"Yeah."

"Like…a nightmare?"

"No…" Grimly, Peter touched his thimble. "Memories. Nightmares can be memories, but some nightmares can be fake. Wendy…well…she makes nightmares from memories. Real ones. Memories that are there but… memories you might not remember."

Something in Peter's voice unnerved Jack. Still, thunderstruck by Peter's explanation, he stammered.

"So… then… that little girl…with the ice skates…that was… _my_ memory? That was _my memory_! I – I have _memories_! I was someone before I was Jack Frost! _I have memories_!"

Simultaneously elated and frightened Jack swung his staff. Snowflakes whirled from the crooked end as he beseeched Peter.

"This – this is incredible – this is great! I – I have to tell Elsa! I have to find Wendy! Maybe she can – "

"You leave Wendy _alone_."

Jack skid as Peter stopped. Warningly, Peter pointed.

"Wendy doesn't like shadow working! It upsets her, and after what happened last night, I don't know if she can control her powers! I am warning you Jack Frost: _leave my girl alone_!"

"But you don't understand!" Insistently Jack tapped his temple. "I've been invisible for 300 years! I have no idea who I am, or what I'm supposed to do, or why I'm still here! The Man in the Moon won't tell me, and the guardians don't know. But if Wendy can get my memories –"

"Your memories – " Peter barked, pointing to his own head. "Will _hurt_ you. You might be able to _see_ the memory, but you _won't be able to remember_! Whatever you see will haunt you for years! Trust me. _I know_."

" _You do_?! _You do_?!" Angrily, Jack swatted, lacing Peter with frost. "How can you know? How can you possibly understand?"

Peter turned dark. Venomously, he spoke.

" _I understand_. Because when Wendy took my shadow six years ago…I saw two people. A woman. And a man. Both crying. I don't know who they are. I don't know their names."

Wrathfully, Peter turned. And as he disappeared into the Otherland, Jack heard his anguished reply.

"But the man had red hair...and pointed ears. And he was whispering to the woman…. _let me be your wings_."

* * *

 **...**

 **Big4girl poem:**

 ** _A man and woman, who they are I don't know, the memory burns the bigger I grow. I don't remember what the hell is going on, but I hate the memory and I want to move on, how can I remember if I don't have memories. I want and wish, thrash and plea, but I have no recognition of the two people in my memory._**

 **...**

* * *

 **sultal's note: COUPLE NOTES!**

 **(#1) Happy Christmas season - sorry for the delay in posting, but I was writing the "Christmas Special." It is called MAKING FANTASIA : A STAR WARS CHRISTMAS, featuring a short story of Jim/Wendy's friendship (12 years old), with appearances from Peter and Ariel.**

 **(#2) yes... _Let Me Be Your Wings_ , for those of you that don't know = the movie Thumbelina. Google it. And yes, I've been sitting on this memory of Peter's for a LONG time (since Taking Fantasia as a matter of fact - it was not important for that story, so I'm pumped to introduce it to this story!).**

 **(#3) Peter's virginity/lack there of: So many questions if Tink was lying to Wendy about Peter's sex scene.**

 **The SHORT ANSWER = no. Peter is experienced, Peter has been around, Peter is not a virgin.**

 **THE LONG ANSWER = the way I wrote Peter's character in Taking Fantasia, I wanted him to be...oh how do we say...promiscuous? And I wanted this for several reasons...**

 **(1) Jim has motivation here to be protective of Wendy. Remember, Jim doesn't act irrationally (usually). He is a fact finder, a data man, and he does care for Wen's happiness. If Peter was say, like HIccup, I think Jim would 'more willing' to trust Wendy alone on dates. (But again Jim is the "brother figure"...those of you with brothers will understand...I have 2 brothers...the proteectiveness gets old...very quickly... but bros are suppose to protect their sisters... apparently it's in the Bro Code. Idk).**

 **(2) Peter is an orphan, so he would start school on the lowest rung on the totem pole. So, to build his 'social standing' and to feel affection from others (remember, he likes the idea of family, closeness, feeling good about himself via what people think of him), he would be a ladies man.**

 **(3) Come on ...it's Pan! Pan the Man! He's cocky, handsome, charming to a fault, and HAS to be the alpha dog in every situation - so, yes I think he would start as the type of dude that tries to exert his prowess over girls.**

 **(4) One of the reasons Wen intrigues and attracts Peter -as he alludes during his propsal in taking Fantasia, Wendy "had the guts to tell him he was wrong." Wendy's class would be a new concept for Peter, one of the reasons their personalities clash a bit.**

 **(5) It was a goal of this story to metamorphosize Peter's character - as we can see (and as Wen has observed) Peter is biting at the chomp to have sex. But slowly through this story he is gaining willpower (something peter lacks and Wendy has - aka her 'conviction'). He is also learning to be a gentleman.**

 **(6) Peter's bad boy reputation is also motivation for Wendy - she is pressured. Majorly - from Peter, from his ex's...so we'll just have to see how this pans out (pun intended).**

 **So CLEARLY, I have thought this through...sorry for the paragraph :P**

 **WOW - Rant sultal - RANT! lots of energy. depleted sugar. I need a christmas cookie.**

 **keep writing!**


	59. Chapter 59: Son of a - !

**Chapter 59: Son of a - !**

Jim threw up once. Twice. He changed his shirt once. Twice –

"Okay." Grabbing his motorcycle helmet and shrugging on a leather jacket, Jim beckoned Wendy down Pirate's Point. "Let's do it."

Wendy followed. She made no comment of Jim's bathroom delay, but she did study him across the motorcycle.

As she expected: Jim looked like a gladiator bound for the Colosseum. She recognized his _If-I-die-I-am-dragging-you-down-to-Hell_ - _with-me_ face. Silently tucking stray ringlets under her bowler Wendy granted Jim the quiet he needed to remain calm. Jim was confronting ten years of bitterness – this expedition was a _nasty_ can of worms.

Wendy _herself_ was a little nervous, and for multiple reasons. First, she disliked Sinbad. True, she'd never met the ' _gentleman_ ,' and prayed she never would, but Wendy had observed Sinbad's malevolence for years. His memory hurt Jim every day. _Every single day._ Wendy _despised_ Sinbad for that – he'd gouged a hole inside Jim that would never heal.

But more significantly, Wendy was nervous about...tonight.

 _Nervous_?

Well. That was an understatement: she was scared to death. The thought of ...giving herself...giving herself...to ...Peter...

Wendy's heart roared at the mere _thought_. She glanced at Jim, ashamed to have even been _thinking_ of making love with Peter in his presence. If Jim found out – _oh_. _Heaven save her_. If Jim _ever_ found out...

Wendy lagged behind the motorcycle. Jim slowed a touch, but maintained deliberate course for the ocean.

Aching with guilt, Wendy watched from behind. She had _tried_ to tell him this morning; she had _tried_ to tell him that she was scared, that she needed his help. But Wendy realized – she didn't want Jim's advice. She just wanted his blessing. She just wanted Jim to give her a hug, and promise that everything going to be all right

But it wasn't. Nothing was all right. Time was against her – Peter's intentions were against her – Tinkerbell's insults were against her – Wendy's own desires were against her –

Only Jim respected her fears. And now...

Wendy halted in the sand. Reliving a hundred wonderful memories, she gazed after her best friend.

She and Jim had shared so much. _So much_. And now, she was betraying his trust.

 _Please_ Wendy begged as Jim turned, noticing her delay _Please don't let Jim ever find out. Please._

"Something up?" Motorcycle cradled against his hip, Jim nodded upwards. "Besides dumb and dumber?"

Wendy looked. Morph was harassing Peter's shadow (via squiggling up it's nostrils). The shadow was retaliating with rude gestures.

"Goodness." Wendy finished bunching hair under her hat. "I've kept him under the bed for too long."

"Yeah. Morph too." Deftly, Jim pulled a clutch lever. The motorcycle shuddered several inches above the sand as he continued along the beach. "Surprised Morph hasn't sucked Pan's shadow to into soup yet."

Wendy raised a brow – Jim sounded more hopeful than 'surprised', but she graciously overlooked his tone.

"Jim." Wendy pointed across the way. "Is that Flynn?"

Jim squinted. As Flynn skipped-to-his-lou towards them, he groaned.

"Great. More good news."

"GUUUUHHHHHD MAWWWNING!" Flynn sang, tapping a little dance. " _Good morning! Good morning! It's great to stay up late – good morning – good morning to YOU! And you – and you – and_ -"

"—Flynn." Jim said. "Shut up."

Wendy nudged. "Jim, be nice."

"Wen, if I weren't being nice he'd be deader than a fuc –"

"Well I see you're sparkly as ever." Sunnily, Flynn unpocketed his cell phone. "Mr. Perky."

Jim glowered. Exhaling like a tyrannosaurus-rex, he circled the motorcycle towards the surf.

Exasperated, Wendy sighed. "Oh for goodness sake. Flynn – it's wonderful to see you, but Jim and I are in a bit of a rush. Is something wrong?"

"Nope." Flynn raised his phone as Morph and Peter's shadow flew beside Wendy. "Well, not yet anyway. I've been texting Merida and Robin. Thought you'd want to know – they rendezvoused with Peter about twenty minutes ago. He made it to the Great Wall."

" _Peter_." Wendy hovered over Flynn's phone. As Jim joined, she waited impatiently for Flynn to browse his text messages. "Thank heavens, he made it safe. I thought for sure he'd sleep in."

"Ha ha! Pete? Sleep in?" Chuckling, Flynn flipped through his messages (most were from Rapunzel). "Nah – Pan the Man doesn't sleep. He's driving Rapunzel crazy with the all-night video games. Pete's a wiz at _Super Mario_ – he woke me up at 4 am this morning to play!"

"Productive." Jim muttered.

"You said it!" Flynn agreed, missing the sarcasm (gaming equaled life). "Believe you me – between _Super Mario_ and _Wizard 101_ , this has been the best week of my life! Wish the Panster was around all the time. Okay – here's Robin's text. He and Merida share a phone. Adorable."

"What does it say?" Wendy asked, unable to hide her concern. "Everything is all right, isn't it?"

"Yup." Flynn scrolled, reading the message. "Robin says – _Pan just landed. Giving directions_."

"Giving directions?"

"Pete doesn't know how to get to Berk." Flynn explained. "He wanted to take the fastest route. Something about getting back in time for dinner?"

Wendy smiled. "I'm cooking Peter dinner."

"Aw." Flynn grinned. " _Nice_. Where?"

"Um. Peter didn't mention...?"

"Really? Hmmm." Flynn twinkled at Wendy. "You want our place? Think I could arrange for you two be _alllllllllllllllone_."

Wendy was suddenly self-conscious: she had the impression Flynn was reading her mind. At the very least, his insinuations were suggestive – and they were vexing Jim.

"That's...very thoughtful of you..." Wendy said, cognizant of Jim behind her. "But unnecessary. After all...it's only dinner."

Flynn snorted, highly amused. "Heh heh. Okay. Wink – wink."

" _Mr._ Rider." Wendy warned, eyes darting towards Jim. " _If_ you please."

"Ha. Ooookay, my bad Wendy. You and Pete can use our pad tonight." Lightly, Flynn returned to the phone. "Punzie and I will chillax with Aladdin and Jaz. Al's got a mansion bigger than the Taj Mahal."

"Lovely, Flynn. Thank you. Now..." Wendy hurried from the subject. "Any more messages from Merida and Robin?"

"Nope – just two from Peter. He musta conned the phone from Robin. Pete sent two messages. One for Jim and one for you."

"Really?" Wendy glanced at Jim. "What do they say?"

"Well the message for Jim is a pic – " Devilishly, Flynn turned his phone. It was a selfie of Peter – cross-eyed and tongue stuck out. "With love."

Jim rolled his eyes. "Ass hole."

"Apparently he wanted to take a picture of that too." Flynn said as Wendy reprimanded Jim's language. "Merida was all for it, but Rob said no mooning."

"My luck."

"And Wendy..." Flynn swiped to the next message. "Pete sent you a text. One word...I don't know what to make of it. Looks like code?"

"What is it?" Wendy asked.

Flynn handed her the phone. Wendy read the text.

 **Apron?**

Wendy swallowed a smile; Jim was burning with annoyance.

"I haven't the foggiest." Wendy lied. She straightened her blazer with a little huff. "He's quite the silly boy."

"Ha. Ookay." Flynn typed a return message. "I'll tell Merida and Robin we made contact. Pete's gotta be in the Otherland by now, and Ariel's on her way to King Arthur's castle. Once we get a handle on everybody's situation, we'll let King Arthur decide what to do. Kay kay?"

"Fine." Jim drew Wendy to the motorcycle. "We shouldn't be long. I'm on a timed schedule, so we're driving out, taking a look, then coming back."

" _Timed schedule_?" Flynn laughed. "What, gotta hot date?"

Jim helped Wendy straddle the bike. He held as she fought for balance.

"Yes and her name is Ariel. Anything else?"

Jim's candor was a weapon. Flynn was sufficiently outspoken.

"Uh...guess not?" Weakly, Flynn saluted. "Good luck?"

"Thanks." Unsentimentally, Jim mounted. Donning his helmet, he gunned the engine, shifted gears, and yanked the throttle. "Hold on Wen."

Wendy lurched. Seizing Jim's middle she held for dear life as they burst over the ocean – Morph and Peter's shadow scampering behind.

The open ocean was cold. Surprisingly cold. The wind was hard and the swells growled as Jim skimmed over the monstrous crests.

Shivering, Wendy distracted herself with the scenery. At first she searched for Sinbad's ship, but quickly became absorbed with the ocean's majesty. The open ocean was an _enormous_ place. Water stretched outward and downward like a galaxy but moved continuously, like a giant. Wendy was awed: _how did Ariel manage it all_?

Suddenly, a white, triangular shape caught the corner of Wendy's eye. Attention drawn, she peered as the white shape glinted over the waves and solidified into –

"Sails. White sails. A ship."

Wendy tugged Jim's jacket. Head tilting, Jim shifted gears. The motorcycle decelerated, purring over the ocean.

"You okay?" Jim called over the wind and waves.

Wendy nodded. Reminded that Jim could not properly see her, she pointed. "Look! A ship!"

Jim followed her finger. His expression was hidden by the helmet, but Wendy felt his stomach clench.

"Okay!" Veering, Jim aimed his headlights at the ship. He clicked a dial on his helmet. "They're looking at us!"

"What?" Wendy leaned. Perplexed she squinted – she could barely see the ship, let alone it's occupants. "Are you sure?"

Jim tapped his helmet. "Bionic lenses! The visor bends light-waves entering my eye! It enhances vision!"

 _Of course._ Sardonically Wendy resettled behind Jim. _Of course. A sci-fi motorcycle helmet equipped with bionic lenses that warped light to enhance vision. Why ever not?_ _Classic J.P.H._

"Do they seem threatening?" Wendy pointed again at the ship. "Do you see anyone?"

They both knew that by ' _anyone'_ she meant _Sinbad_.

Jim scanned. Again, he readjusted the dial on his helmet.

"No!" he finally replied. "Just sailors! And there isn't just one ship! There are two!"

"Two?" Bracing on the foot rest, Wendy rose. Jim ushered her back down.

"Wen sit! Yeah, I can't really make them out, but there are definitely two!"

"What are they doing?" Wendy repeated. "Do they seemed threatening?"

She heard Jim scoff even through his helmet. "They're _waving_."

"Waving? That's..."

"Speak up!"

"No – nothing! Just – do you think we should get closer?"

Jim did not answer. Regretting that she had asked, Wendy suddenly glimpsed Morph and Peter's shadow above.

"Jim!" Opportunistically, she motioned. "Why not send Shadow?"

Jim considered the shadow. Indecisively he gripped and ungripped the handlebars.

Wendy fidgeted. She knew Jim was calculating, but they couldn't wait: Sinbad's pirates had spotted them. Wendy was unnerved.

So she made an executive decision.

"Shadow! Shadow come here!"

The shadow obliged. _It had been bored for DAYS. Time to partay!_

"Shadow!" Wendy directed the shadow at Sinbad's ship. "See there? Take a look aboard! Just look – _no touching_! Understood?"

The shadow flicked the brim of her bowler. _Do I understand? Surely you jest!_

Wendy straightened her hat. "Behave! All right – go ahead! We're looking for a man with...a man that looks...a..."

Wendy paused. She had _no idea_ what Sinbad looked like – and she was not _at all_ comfortable asking Jim.

But Jim spoke.

"Look for a man that looks like me."

Wendy bit her lip. Jim was dripping with self-disgust. Sorrowfully, she stared at his back.

The shadow departed. Silently they waited, listening to the ocean rumble.

Abruptly, Jim twisted.

"Hey! Can you pretend to be a girl for a sec?"

Wendy frowned. "What?"

"Can you pretend to be a girl for a sec?"

"...I am a girl!"

"No, I mean a girl – girl! Like if we were dating!"

Wendy glanced incredulously between Jim and Sinbad's ship. _Were they really having this conversation? Now?_

"Fine!" Wendy consented. "I'm a girl! What?"

"Are flowers stupid?"

Wendy pushed back her bowler. _"What_?"

"Flowers!" Jim opened his palm, miming a flower blossom. "If you were a girl like Ariel – would you like a flower? Or would it be stupid?"

Understanding his question, Wendy beamed. She could imagine Jim scowling behind his helmet as she _elatedly_ responded.

"Yes! If I was a girl like Ariel, I would love a flower! But – just one? Why not a bouquet?"

Jim stared ahead. Wendy had to lean as he begrudgingly answered.

"I wanted to get a waterlily...a purple one...for her hair...it's just... I dunno...Ariel ...she's just so pretty... beautiful...gorgeous...and...I dunno. A flower seems -"

"Ohhhhhhhhh!" Unable to stop herself, Wendy seized Jim's waist and squealed. "Oh Jim!"

"What the - ?" Jim turned. "Oh Jesus! Get off! Wen! Let go!"

Jim wrestled but Wendy held fast. Delighted, she hugged harder.

"Jim that is so, so, SO ROMANTIC!"

"Okay quit with the hugging –!"

"You are SOOOO ROMANTIC!"

"Would you cut it ou – !"

"Jim!" Wendy pressed her cheek into his jacket. "Jim I thought you were hopeless! Oh you might parade around like a grumpy little rain cloud –!"

"Wen!"

"But inside you are just a happy little rainbow!"

"WENDY I will THROW you OFF this bike!"

Wendy did not care.

"Jim!" she squeezed. " I am SO proud of you!"

"Wendy!"

"Jim you are in LOVE!"

"Wendy!"

"And Ariel LOVES YOU!"

"Wendy Moria!"

"James Pleiades!" Wendy rocked him back and forth. "You are going to live happily ever after!"

"Wendy –!" Furiously, Jim ripped her hands from his waist. "—stop hugging me!"

BANG.

A blast split the air. The sound followed seconds after a cannonball cracked into the nose of Jim's motorcycle. Stronger than steel, the graphene fairing did not break but Jim and Wendy whiplashed violently as the bike pitched.

Jim grabbed Wendy as they careened. With a massive yank, he wrenched the bike upright. The tail lights smacked the ocean, and Jim yanked again, forcing the motorcycle straight. Wendy slammed into Jim. Her neck snapped; Wendy shouted, certain her vertebrae had dislodged.

They could almost hear the pirates laughing.

Jim spun about. As Morph squeaked hysterically overhead, he yelled.

"Shit! Wen! You hurt?"

"N-no." Painfully, Wendy released her neck. It throbbed. Her head felt like a pin-cushion. "No, I'm fine! You?"

Jim didn't answer. He stared at Wendy behind the black visor.

Then furiously, he turned to Sinbad's ship.

"Son of a -!"

Jim punched the throttle.

And they charged _The Princess_.

* * *

 **sultal's note: Happy Holidays! So - I had a cool art commission to draw an older KING ARTHUR, so obviously I made the 19 year old Giving Fantasia version.**

 **You can see 19 year old Arthur on my Deviant Art page (sultal-wf). Title = "ARTHUR PENDRAGON Giving Fantasia (Disney Fanfic)"**


	60. Chapter 60: Pitch Attack

**Chapter 60: Pitch Attack**

Tulio did not need ANY more stress. Ever since Ruber's mutiny and the Boogie Man's arrival, he'd been a puddle of nerves. Ruber threatened to kill treacherous sailors, Sinbad was peer-pressuring everyone to defect, Captain Hook's army prowled between the ships like zombies, and Pitch Black was just scary.

On top of EVERYTHING, they were NOW taking Fantasia.

 _Riiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiight._

Tulio pitied himself. It was HARD being a pirate – especially a pirate captained by Sinbad. Every day was _literally_ a near-death-experience. A.k.a., stress.

"Please, oh mother loving Aztec queen." Broodingly, Tulio slackened Sinbad's lifeline. "For the love of all that glitters like gold: No. More. Stress."

"I say! Tulio!"

As Miguel flounced aside him, Tulio groaned. _Great_. _Stress aggravator numero uno:_ _best –buddy-partner-in-crime-life-can-be-beautiful_ Miguel.

"What Miguel?"

Clearly unperturbed by Tulio's tone (or that Captain Hook and Pitch were lurking nearby), Miguel flicked his spyglass.

"Tulio, do you see that? Out to sea, 5 degrees east? Here – have a look through my spyglass. It's brilliant!"

" _Miguel_." Tulio hissed, eyes widening meaningfully at Pitch and Captain Hook. "We're supposed to be monitoring Sinbad's lifeline! Creepy and creepier are watchingggggg…"

"Oh yes, yes, but look! Look, look!" Oblivious to Hook and Pitch, Miguel brandished the spyglass. "Have a peek Tulio, just once! You've _never_ seen anything like it! Over there, just 5 degrees east! A FLYING MOTORCYCLE!"

"…come again?"

"A FLYING – " Miguel flittered like a bird. "—MOTORCYCLE! Here! Do yourself a favor! Loooooooooook!"

"You've been drinking your own pee again, haven't you?"

"Just look!"

Unenthusiastically, Tulio accepted the spyglass.

"Miguel." he muttered, simultaneously loosening Sinbad's lifeline and raising the spyglass. "I swear if we get in trouble for this I'm going to feed you to the - whoa."

Tulio blinked. He lowered the spyglass. Flummoxed, he replaced it against his eye.

"Atzec mother!" Dumbly, Tulio gawked through he lens. "That's a flipping flying motorcycle!"

"Tally ho!" cried Miguel. He started salsa dancing with delight. "Tally, tally ho!"

"What the freaking frack _is_ that?" Tulio tracked the flying motorcycle. As it's riders paused over the sea, money signs _cha-chinged_ in Tulio's eyes. "A _flying motorcycle_. HOW can we get a piece of that action? Gizmo like that must be worth a _fortune_."

"Hm? Oh! I know!" Jubilantly, Miguel started waving at the flying motorcycle.

"Maybe we can lure them aboard! What say you – try our hand at swindling?" Miguel added a hop to his wave. "Try to act friendly, Tulio! Hello! Ahoy! This way! Over yonder! Come here!"

"Miguel!" Tulio wacked him with the spyglass. He panicked as Pitch and Captain Hook drew near. "Miguel, shut up! We're supposed to be lying low remember? _We are invading_! Plus – they could be dangerous!"

"Dangerous?" Brightly, Miguel seized Tulio's wrist and forced him to wave. "I don't think so! It's an astronaut and a little girl!"

"Oh I definitely saw a blaster on the astronaut's hip!"

"But they were cuddling!"

"He didn't look too happy!"

"Tulio, how could you tell? He's wearing a helmet – cool one too."

"Oh yeah I agree. Very Tron."

"Hm, I thought it more Iron Man. But each to his own – "

"What…" Pitch suddenly whispered as Captain Hook twisted the spyglass from Tulio. "Is so very interesting?"

Tulio gulped. As Pitch advanced, he tried very hard not to wet his pants.

"Nothing! Nothing Your Worshipfulness! Just eh…"

Tulio edged behind Miguel as Captain Hook spied through the glass. Nervously, he raised Sinbad's lifeline. "Just watching the lifeline – per orders. Making sure everything stays shipshape before the invasion. Wouldn't want to spoil your plans for glory, bloodbath, and revenge."

"Spoiled – " Captain Hook said, adjusting the spyglass. "—is the _perfect_ word. Master Pitch, I am afraid we have company. Undesirable company."

"Undesirable?" Taking the spyglass, Pitch peered over the waves. His teeth bared.

" _Who_ are they?"

Captain Hook smiled. "Fantasian brats. The boy, without his helmet I cannot say for certain. But the girl…a one Wendy Darling."

Across the deck, Facilier grinned evilly at his shadow. Under the hull, Lana and her mermaid cousins did the same.

"And?" Pitch followed the snickers and evil grins. "She is?"

The sails shuddered. Abruptly, Captain Hook searched the rigging.

"Wendy Darling is the Underworld guardian. She is your _shadow worker_." Sneering, Captain Hook pointed at a dark silhouette lurking in the shrouds. "And she has sent a spy. My, my…Peter Pan's shadow. Facilier….won't you be so kind?"

Facilier snapped. His shadow hurtled into Peter's, and they wrestled across the sails, snarling like dogs. Unencumbered by human directive Peter's shadow overwhelmed Facilier's, who was forced to wait for his shadow worker's cues.

Viciously the shadows rolled onto the deck. Cockily as Peter Pan himself, Peter's shadow sucked it's finger and stuck it into his victim's ear.

Facilier's shadow screeched. Peter's shadow celebrated. _YAHHHHHHHS!_ _It had been SO long since Wendy let him play naughty!_ Triumphantly, the shadow slapped Facilier's silly.

Then, it felt a cold hand on it's neck.

"How adorable." Lazily, Pitch strangled Peter's shadow. One hand behind his back, he squeezed. "A little shadow, sent by a little shadow worker. My…she's tamed you well. But…I think you need to be… _untamed_."

Pitch raised a finger. The shadow kicked. Helplessly it flailed for the bulwark, begging for Wendy.

"Aw." Pitch brushed the shadow's temple. He clenched harder as the shadow winced. "Did that hurt? Did you want your little shadow worker to come save you from the Boogie Man?"

Gagging, the shadow tried to dodge Pitch's finger, a hair from it's face.

"Well." Pitch hooked the shadow's temple. He grinned as the shadow writhed in agony. "I would _love_ to meet your shadow worker. Captain Hook, what say you? Why not introduce me to the Underworld guardian?"

Captain Hook happily obliged.

"Ladies…" Leaning across the bulwark, Captain Hook addressed the giggling mermaids. "Pitch has invited Miss Darling aboard. Lana, Cordelia, Adella: Escort her, won't you? And Captain Ruber…"

As the mermaids darted underwater, Captain Hook rapped an iron cannon. "Have your men fetch Long Tom."

Long Tom was fetched. The cannon detonated. The pirates laughed as the flying motorcycle spun wildly out of control.

"Did it knock her off?" Ruber asked, peering over Captain Hook's shoulder. "Did Pitch's guardian fall to the mermaids?"

Captain Hook raised the spyglass. Sticking the end into his empty socket, he scoffed.

"No. She did not."

Suddenly, an engine roared. And as Sinbad's lifeline zapped taut, Captain Hook turned calmly to Pitch.

"But the flying motorcycle appears to be launching an attack."

Pitch smiled.

"Perfect." he said, finger twisting into Peter's shadow.

* * *

… … … **..**

* * *

"Jim! Jim stop!"

Jim ignored Wendy. Clenching the handlebars, he leaned into the ocean spray, eyes on _The Princess_ and accelerating speed. The bike ripped through the wind like a bullet.

"Jim!" Wendy tugged, trying to be heard. She spluttered as water cut into her face. "Jim _stop_! You're going too – "

BANG. A second cannonball exploded and was instantly followed by a third. Reflexively Jim veered, slanting the bike horizontal as the cannon balls blazed overhead. Skimming across the water, Jim threw back a hand, catching Wendy before she fell.

"Hold on!" he barked, zooming upright and resuming course. "They're going to keep firing!"

Wendy was aghast. As two more cannonballs fired, she clamped Jim's waist and squeezed her legs against the bike.

"Have you lost your – oh!" Wendy lurched as Jim dropped horizontal to avoid the first shot, then wrenched vertical to avoid the second. Soaked, Wendy felt her grip slipping across his jacket.

"Jim!" Wendy shouted. "They are shooting at us!"

"I can see that!"

"Jim – " Wendy slid across the seat as Jim jack-knifed across the cannon fire. "Jim STOP we are going to get killed!"

"NO we're NOT!" Teeth grit, Jim pushed through enemy lines. "TRUST ME I KNOW WHAT I'M DOING!"

The ships approached, growing bigger and bigger as the cannonballs flew faster and faster. Each impact blew the motorcycle off course, but Jim navigated the battlefield at breakneck speeds. Explosive as lightning he shot through the cannon fire and towards _The Princess_.

"OKAY!" Engines screaming, Jim raced for _The Princess'_ hull. "HEAD DOWN!"

Bullets buzzed by Wendy's ear. "Head dow -?"

Jim opened full throttle. Bullets sliced the graphene fairings and cannons burned the surrounding ocean as they bombarded over the waves, across the hull, into the insignia scrolled across _The Princess_ ' stern –

"WENDY!" Jim yelled a second before they crashed. "HEAD DOWN!"

Wendy obeyed. As bullets and cannonballs pelted into the motorcycle, she ducked behind Jim.

Jim ripped the handlebars. Motorcycle shrieking, he cut a sharp corner and careened between the ships. One arm wrapped behind Wendy, he tore through the explosions like a rocket, leaving the pirates to open fire on their own ships.

"YES!" Jim hollered, tearing for the open ocean. Behind him, the ships smoked. "YES! YES! YES!"

Pitch Black watched their departure. As the pirates rushed to save their splintered hulls, he calmly released Peter's shadow after the flying motorcycle.

"Finally. Someone who knows how to have a little _fun_!"

* * *

… … … **..**

* * *

"YES! DAMN IT! DAMN IT! YES!" Regrouping several hundred fathoms from _The Princess_ and her mate, Jim ripped off his helmet. Electrified with adrenaline, he punched the horizon. "TAKE THAT YOU SON OF A BITCH! YES! Whew! Yes! Wen -!"

Exhilarated, Jim rattled Wendy's wrists (still locked around his middle). Reaching, he pried her head from his jacket. "Wen! Open your eyes! We did it, we blasted that son of a bitch! He is going NOWHERE soon! Wen! Open up!"

Feebly, Wendy released Jim.

Then she punched.

"Ow!" Jim grabbed his shoulder. "Wen, what was -?"

"James Pleiades Hawkins!" Relentlessly, Wendy pummeled his back. "Don't you EVER do that to me AGAIN! You – I can't BELIEVE YOU! Would it have been TERRIBLY inconvenient for you to WARN me? _Ooops sorry Wendy but we're going to attack two fully armed forty gun PIRATE SHIPS_?"

"Oh you had fun!"

"YOU had fun!"

"We just kicked their asses!"

Wendy threw a punch. "Language!"

"Whoa, Wen!" The motorcycle teetered as Jim caught Wendy's arm. Her needle glinted a hair from his cheek. "Watch the needle!"

Wendy smacked her opposite fist into his stomach. "You're lucky I don't use it on your shadow right now! Jim, we might have died!"

"I wasn't going to let us die! Well, unless you died of a heart attack!"

"Jim that is NOT funny!"

"It's hilarious! We survived! What do you want me to say?"

" _Say_?! How about _I'm sorry_?!"

"Okay, I'm sorry! Ow!"

"Say it like you mean it!"

"I mean it!" Jim said, blocking Wendy's fist. "I mean it! I mean it! I'm sorry for dragging you on the kick ass surprise attack that crippled that son of a bitch's boat!"

"Jim!" Laughing, smiling, scowling, and crying, Wendy wrung Jim's jacket. " _Stop_ _swearing_ or I am going to –"

Wendy halted, gaze lifting behind Jim. Confused, her eyes narrowed. Then they widened in horror.

"Jim." she stammered. "Jim start the motorcycle! Jim start the motorcycle right – "

Icy fingers clamped Jim's face. As Wendy shouted, Peter's shadow attacked. It ripped through Jim's darkest memories and chewed his mind to mush. But it was only when the shadow found memories of Sinbad did Jim lose control.

Jim screamed. The motorcycle dropped. Stomach flying into her mouth, Wendy seized Jim with one hand, and with the other –

"Shadow STOP!"

Lunging over Jim she stabbed her needle through the shadow's chest. An acidic feeling stung up her arm and through her blood as the shadow peeled from Jim and leapt into her. Unprepared, Wendy lost her defenses. As the motorcycle crashed into the ocean, the shadow warped her happy thought of Peter ' _counting his blessings,'_ to the moment he unzipped her dress and covered her mouth so she couldn't scream –

"Wen!" Jim's voice called as water rose to her waist. Distantly she felt the motorcycle lurch. "Wen get that fucking thing off you!"

 _Jim_. Wendy thought. _James Pleiades Hawkins. He'd never let anyone hurt you. He wants to surprise Ariel with a purple flower for her hair. Jim is going to be all right. Jim has Ariel. Jim has learned to love._

It wasn't her strongest happy thought, but it was enough. Grimacing, Wendy pushed the shadow from her mind and into her hands. Panting, she knotted the shadow with her needle and thread as Jim struggled to resurface his sinking bike.

"Shit!" Jim revved the engine. He wrenched, willing the circuitry to recover. "Damn it come on, come on! Wen, just hold on!"

Wendy didn't answer. The shadow was unrecognizable with rage and vicious as a rabid animal. As the motorcycle floundered, it took every ounce of Wendy's ability to keep the shadow contained.

"Wen!" Jim growled as the motorcycle inched from the water. "Can't you kill that thing?"

The shadow snarled as Wendy gasped. "I'm – not – going – to –kill!"

"Wendy just kill it!"

"It's Peter's soul, I can't –"

"Then shut it up!"

"Jim I'm _trying_! I'm – JIM!"

Jim saw Wendy fall from the corner of his eye. Maintaining the controls, he blindly thrashed out a hand, catching Wendy's sleeve as she hit the water. Wincing against the shadow's sting, he pulled.

Something underwater pulled Wendy back.

"Shit!" Panicking, Jim released the handlebars. The nose spun, plunging the bike further underwater, and Wendy further still. Submerging to her chest, Wendy struggled to control the shadow as she sunk.

"Jim my legs! Something's got my –"

"I know! I know!" Jim yanked, once on Wendy and once on the throttle. "It's okay, I've got you, I've got you! Just don't let – "

Wendy lurched, fingers sliding across Jim's wrist and down his palm. Simultaneously they cried, held together only by fingertips.

Foregoing the controls, Jim reached for his blaster. As he leaned to counter the motorcycle's tip, Wendy's fingertips slowly started slipping…

"Wen!" Frantically Jim unbuckled his holster. "Just hold on for one more –"

Their fingers snapped apart. Screaming, Wendy flung the shadow underwater and seized Jim with her free hand.

"Go!" she cried, kicking free. The ocean seethed as the shadow ravaged the underwater demons. "Jim go, go, go!"

Jim didn't wait. Hauling Wendy aboard, he gunned the water-logged engine as far as it would go.

They almost made it to shore. Pursued by Peter's shadow, Jim overturned his bike as the engine gargled and died. Trolling Wendy until she could touch sand, Jim wrenched through the water and dragged her onto the beach.

"Wen!" Jim shouted as the shadow charged. "Wen the – "

Wendy was ready. Sprinting ahead of Jim she met the shadow with a blow that could have broken the gates of Hell.

"Stop it!" Veins ink black, Wendy drove the shadow into the sand. "Stop it right now! Shadow I am warning you – STOP!"

Savagely, the shadow clawed for her memories, but Wendy forced them out of reach. With uncharacteristic brutality, she stabbed her needle directly between the shadow's eyes.

The shadow shrieked. Wailing, it thrashed as Wendy stabbed the needle over, and over, and over, and over…

Then…it stopped. Lifelessly the shadow collapsed, a crumpled black wisp, dozens of shiny silver scars in it's face.

Then, curling into a ball, the shadow began to cry.

Wendy whimpered. Withdrawing her needle and ignoring Jim's warning, she cradled the shadow in her arms.

"I'm sorry…" she whispered, stroking the shadow's head. Tearfully, she looked at Jim. "I am so, so sorry."

Wretchedly, Jim sighed. Kneeling aside Wendy, he hugged her shoulders as she hugged the weeping shadow.

Neither had anything to say.

But Flynn did.

"Oh! You're back!" Bouncing from his observation spot, Flynn smiled at the bedraggled trio. "So how did it go?"


	61. Chapter 61: Cold Feet

**Chapter 61: Cold Feet**

" _What_?"

"Plain and clear." Impassively Agent Bubbles reiterated the previous evening's unpleasantries to King Arthur. "Admiral Triton reported suspicious pirate activity in the Northern Fantasian Sea; Lady Shadow Worker possessed an entire restaurant; Lord Hawkins hospitalized Captain Eric; and Lady Elsa is cavorting with an invisible frost phantom."

The last descriptor straightened Arthur in his seat.

"She's...? An invisible phan...?"

Arthur paused. Agent Bubbles raised a brow as the young king took a deep, steadying breath. _Anger. That was new – for the king. Frustration, yes. Bewilderment, commonly. Enthusiasm, all the time. But anger...interesting._

Strenuously, Arthur reverted to a state of calm. As Archimedes flapped from the rafters, he gripped Excalibur beneath the Round Table.

"Suspicious pirate activity? Explain."

Agent Bubbles almost smiled. King Arthur was a simplistic thinker – he started with the basics. _"Learning the basics"_ had been one of Master Merlin's pearls of wisdom, and it was one that Agent Bubbles appreciated.

"Otherland pirates." Agent Bubbles replied. "Vessel is a warship called _The Princess_. Captain's name is Sinbad."

Wearily, Arthur brushed his bangs. "Yes, I know. Admiral Triton told me yesterday. He seemed to think Lord Hawkins was involved with Sinbad's appearance. I granted Admiral Triton authorization to seize _The Princess_."

"And Hawkins?"

"Full protection."

"Really? Mind if I act as adviser, Your Majesty?"

"Go ahead." Arthur said, glaring as Archimedes protested. "But I think I know you're going to say. You don't think I should have protected Lord Hawkins."

"About right."

"Why?"

"Too risky. Hawkins is a branded pirate."

"His brand came from the Battle to Take Fantasia." Arthur replied. "A war scar. Blackmail, according to Lady Siren and Lord Hawkins himself."

"Fair." Agent Bubbles consented. "That's one account. But Headmaster Mickey mistrusts Hawkins, because of his _war scar_."

"I know." Arthur said. "Headmaster Mickey told me. But he doesn't mistrust Lord Hawkins completely – he's just cautious. It's sort of like having secret service protection when you know your chief body guard has killed other men. You trust them, but there is always that back-burner fear. Just in case."

That time, Agent Bubbles absolutely smiled. King Arthur had won the argument by alluding to Agent Bubbles (his chief body guard), himself. _Kid was quick – Cobra had to give him that._

Agent Bubbles folded his hands. "Did you know Sinbad is Hawkins' father?"

Arthur hesitated, surprised by the comment. "No. I didn't."

"Well." Agent Bubbles said. "He is."

Arthur considered. Uneasily, he spoke. "Does that change things?"

Agent Bubbles cracked a knuckle. "Could. Could not. Depends. Either way, not worth the risk. _Your Majesty_."

As Agent Bubbles tagged the royal title ('Your Majesty') to the end of his statement, Arthur glanced up, almost irritably. The added title was a reminder for Arthur to separate his feelings from matters of state.

Most of Arthur's advisers, including Agent Bubbles, thought the young king too lenient, too forgiving of misdeeds. Prime example: Merida and Robin. Were it Cobra's decision, both would rot in jail. A crime is a crime – no _ifs_ , _ands_ , or _buts_.

But King Arthur operated in the grey areas. Master Merlin's tutelage had also taught Arthur to consider points of view – something that annoyed Agent Bubbles. Although considering different viewpoints made Arthur a decent strategist, it also made him dangerously... _empathetic_. Prime example: Jim Hawkins. Were it Cobra's decision, Hawkins would be detained, interrogated, and placed under house arrest.

 _But_ the decision was not Cobra's; it was King Arthur's.

"Sinbad has not attacked." Arthur finally determined, touching his crown for confidence. "And I've already given Admiral Triton full jurisdiction over Fantasian waters. If Sinbad attacks, Admiral Triton has my permission to counter attack. Plus, I would _hope_ that Admiral Triton has notified the Lady Siren of Sinbad's presence. So, until something happens...I don't think it necessary to...uhm... _apprehend_ Lord Hawkins. His record his clear."

Agent Bubbles grunted. Apparently His Majesty was unfamiliar with ' _Lord'_ Hawkins' probation record. It was colorful. Very.

"Record is a little muddier than clear." Agent Bubbles reminded. "Hawkins hospitalized Captain Eric."

Arthur side-glanced at Archimedes. Recalling the friction between Eric, Ariel, and Jim at the Round Table meeting, Arthur spoke sardonically.

"I _doubt_ their dispute was a matter of country and state."

Archimedes snickered. Agent Bubbles internally agreed. _Love triangles. Drama. Such a waste of a good clean fight._

"It's your call, Your Majesty. So Hawkins goes free?"

"Yes. For now."

"Will do."

"Good. Now what happened with Lady Shadow Worker?"

"Ah." Agent Bubbles switched modes. People had gotten hurt – time to get _really_ serious. "She possessed a restaurant full of civilians."

" _Possessed_?"

"That was the report."

"Can you be more specific?"

"No." Agent Bubbles said truthfully. "Shadow working was before my time, and Headmaster Mickey says that the... _art_ was a tightly kept secret in the past. Typical. Captain Amelia didn't arrest her, but I was going to bring Darling in for questioning. Thoughts?"

Arthur rubbed his jaw. Archimedes puffed and unpuffed impatiently on his shoulder.

"Was it intentional?" Arthur asked.

"Unclear." said Agent Bubbles. "But probably not. From my school councilor days – "

 _Ugh. School counselor. Worst undercover job EVER._ Cobra internally screamed.

"From my school councilor days." Agent Bubbles calmly continued. "She probably lost control. Got emotional. Powers blew up. Dangerous, but likely accidental. Darling required medical services afterwards."

Arthur looked concerned. "Is she all right?"

"Fine." Agent Bubbles dispassionately replied. "Almost froze to death."

"Froze?" Arthur frowned. "How?"

Mechanically, Agent Bubbles answered. "Lady Elsa."

Arthur stiffened, suddenly angered by Agent's Bubble's response... _and_ by his own.

"And...her phantom."

Agent Bubbles looked over his glasses. King Arthur had spoken... almost harshly. _That_ was unprecedented. Intrigued, Agent Bubbles lowered his sunglasses for a fresh, unobscured assessment of the young king.

"Believe so." he said, studying Arthur's face. Eyes narrowed he watched for another reaction. But the king was wooden. "Believe they've been cavorting well over a few weeks."

Arthur did not break their gaze. But his response was brief as it was brusque.

"Whatever she did, I'm sure it was an accident." Arthur said, referring to Wendy. "Leave Lady Shadow Worker alone. Thank you, Agent Bubbles. I'll take leave of you now."

Agent Bubbles delayed, just a moment.

"Nothing else, Your Majesty –?"

"Agent Bubbles, _thank you_." Arthur nodded at the door. "I will take leave of you _now_."

"Shoo." Archimedes clarified, swooshing his wings. "Shoo, shoo! Skedaddle!"

Although he loathed being ' _shooed_ ' by an educated owl, Agent Bubbles obeyed. The king was aggravated; and being a teenager, Arthur needed time to vent.

 _Oh god._ As he departed, Cobra ironically thought: _Teenagers. He understood teenagers. That school counselor job really did pay off. Just like Headmaster Mickey said it would. Damn it._

"Pin feathers and gully fluff!" Grouchily, Archimedes swooped over the Round Table. Plopping on the stone, he started complaining. " _Who, who, who_ does he think he is? Giving you advice! Boy, don't you remember anything? This'll be the second time I remind you this week – _use your head_! Think for yourself! Use those brains Merlin tried to stuff between your...your..."

Archimedes' rant faded. Hopping forward, he peered at Arthur.

"Wart?"

Arthur's eyes were downcast, and his brows were knit. Pryingly, Archimedes fluttered off the table and into his lap. Arthur turned quickly, but not before Archimedes saw tears.

Archimedes was stunned. Not exactly sympathetic, but _definitely_ concerned and _positively_ stunned. Because, there was only one thing that could break Arthur Pendragon:

Injustice.

Arthur had been abused and maltreated; ridiculed and rebuked; shamed and humiliated. But only injustice drove him to tears. He had cried on Merlin's behalf when the wizard was accused of black magic. He had cried for Headmaster Mickey when the little mouse was slain in the Battle to Take Fantasia. And when the four guardians departed from Fantasia, Arthur had cried for the cruel fate he cursed upon them.

And now, with the knowledge of his bride's infidelity, King Arthur fought tears. Lady Elsa's unfaithfulness, however innocent, was an injustice. It was an injustice to their future. It was an injustice to them both.

Archimedes ached. Climbing Arthur's sleeve, he nestled aside the king's bowed head.

Arthur pressed his forehead. His crown, ever so slightly, slipped.

"Where is she?" Arthur breathed.

* * *

... ... ...

* * *

Elsa stared at her wedding-dressed reflection, awed.

Edna Mode spit.

"Disgusting! That dress is disgusting, Dahling!"

Elsa's maid of honor – her sister Anna – wholeheartedly disagreed.

"No!" Anna gushed, bustling to Elsa's ottoman. Emphatically she hugged Elsa's leg. "No she looks AH-MA-ZING! Elsa looks just like a fairy ice princess!"

Elsa wavered on the ottoman. As Anna embraced, she somehow regained her balance with the gracefulness of swan. "Anna, I'm sure if Miss Mode says it's –"

"Ha! Stupid girl!" Edna batted Anna with a color swatch (the color options were _white_ , _whiter_ , and _whitest_ ). "I said the DRESS is disgusting! Not the future queen! Ack! This dress is horrible – less than perfection! It is a terrible dress Dahling, I won't allow you to be seen in this rag!"

Elsa returned to the mirror. _Rag_ was not the proper word. _Breathtaking_ was closer, but still not adequate to illustrate the dress's beauty.

Her wedding dress was a winter wonderland. White pearlescent silk, the dress glowed like a December moon. Transparent lace sparkled over her sleeves, veil, and train in snowflake patterns, which aggravated Edna to no end – Edna wanted REAL snowflakes! _Not_ the sequin substitute!

"Disgrace!" Edna muttered, inspecting Elsa's train. Repulsed, she pinched the glittering fabric between two fingers. "Nauseating! Ack! I cannot look at it! Dahling! What sneaky lies did you tell the _Fairy Godmother Algorithm_?"

Trumpets practically erupted as Edna proclaimed " _The Fairy Godmother Algorithm_!" A ' _genius'_ breakthrough of her own invention, The Fairy Godmother Algorithm was Edna's secret fashion formula. By asking a series of questions, Edna could stylize the _perfect_ dress for _any_ girl, for _any_ occasion – just like fairy godmother, but without the benefit of magic.

In Edna's own humble opinion, The Fairy Godmother Algorithm was " _magic without the magic touch_." It was...well...it was _fabulous_. _Fabulous dahling_.

However, The Fairy Godmother Algorithm had _not_ worked for Elsa. Although Elsa's wedding dress _was_ gorgeous and _might_ have been worshiped by lower civilizations, Edna saw every flaw. And for Miss Edna _Fabulous_ Mode, imperfection was a sin.

"You! Smiley girl!" Edna smacked Anna with her color swatch. "Go find that ridiculous little snowman!"

Anna covered her bustle. Edna had designed her ice-blue maid of honor dress with everything Anna adored – lots of buttons and bows. Anna didn't want it spoiled before Kristoff saw her in the gown.

"Ouch! You mean Olaf?"

"Yes, yes, yes!" Edna exclaimed, throwing the swatch. "Perhaps his enchanted snowflakes will suffice for this horrible train! Go! Out of my sight!"

As Anna scuttled away, Elsa did not offer to create the snowflakes herself. Still, as Edna grumbled through her fabrics, Elsa circled a thumb over her palm.

A single snowflake crystallized.

Elsa gazed at the snowflake. By now she recognized the design – six jagged branches extending from a center flower. The snowflake pattern hadn't changed since the advent of her powers, six years ago.

But what _did_ change was the color. Elsa's emotions tinted the ice different shades – blue when she was happy, red when she was frightened, purple when she was sad, amber when she was angry...

...and...black...like now ...when she was lost.

"All right Dahling!" Edna Mode reemerged with pen and pad. Frustrated, she flipped to a clean page. "We will start anew! Behold! _The Fairy Godmother Algorithm_!"

(Again, imaginary trumpets).

"First question!" Edna rapped the ottoman. "And no lies! What color is your hair?"

"White..." Halfheartedly, Elsa quoted Anna. "Platinum blonde."

"No embellishing!" Edna snapped, sketching long lines. "Second question! What color are your eyes?"

"Blue."

"Third question!" Edna barked, erasing and revising. "What is your favorite color?"

"White is nice."

"Hmmmmmmmm." Edna squint behind her thick-rimmed glasses. "Interesting. Fourth question..."

Edna propped her pen over the pad, preparing to draw. "Favorite drink?"

Elsa paused. The snowflake inside her fist quivered.

"No lies!" Edna reminded, noticing the hesitation. "Favorite drink!"

"It's..." Guiltily, Elsa replied. "Hot chocolate."

"Ah haaaa." Edna murmured into her pad. "Hot chocolate you say... _different_ response from the last sequence I see."

Elsa did not respond. Remorsefully she remembered King Arthur chinking together two mugs of hot chocolate on a starry night.

"And finally..." Adjusting her glasses, Edna peered intensely. "Fifth question: sun or frost?"

Elsa stopped breathing. Hand drawing to her heart, she whispered.

"Fr...? Fros...? _What did you say_?"

Three soft knocks interrupted Edna's reply.

"Miss Mode, please excuse me. I would like to speak with Lady Elsa."

Elsa turned.

From the doorway King Arthur met her gaze. "Alone."

* * *

... ... ...

* * *

Arthur did not remember Edna Mode's disgruntled compliance. As the fashionista groused her little self to the adjoining antechamber, Arthur was staggered by Elsa's beauty. The wedding dress made her evermore resplendent.

Dismissing Archimedes with his apologies for Edna, Arthur silently shut the door. Breathing deep, he turned.

"I would like to talk."

Elsa observed from the ottoman, almost like a queen on a cloud. She neither blinked nor moved. Arthur suddenly realized she was waiting for him to speak.

"Please." Offering a hand, Arthur motioned to the ottoman. "You don't have to stand. Please, sit."

Elsa regarded his hand. Without accepting she elegantly descended, gown, veil, and train draping perfectly over the ottoman as she sat.

"Yes, Your Majesty?"

Slowly, Arthur let his fingers curl and hand fall. Although she hadn't touched it, his palm stung.

"It's Arthur." Tersely, he drew a chair. " _Again_. You may call me Arthur."

Elsa reclined, slightly.

Detecting his stern tone, Arthur ran a hand behind an ear and across his bangs. Emotions checked, he tried again.

"Elsa. I..."

She waited, completely still.

Helplessly, Arthur gestured. "First. You look beautiful."

Elsa stared. Coolly, she replied.

"Thank you."

"You're welcome. Now, I –"

"But it's bad luck to see the dress before the wedding."

Arthur stumbled and stopped. For a moment he just sat.

Then,

"I don't think your opinion of me would have brought _good_ fortune to our marriage whether I saw your wedding dress or not."

The words tumbled sharply. But before he could stop, Arthur was on his feet and stammering into Elsa's astounded eyes.

"I gave you a compliment." Arthur said, hands trembling against Excalibur. "And I have been _trying_ to know you, to understand you, just to _talk_ with you because we are both scared, we both have cold feet! But Elsa, this arranged marriage is _not_ just one day! This arranged marriage is _not_ just the day we wed. This arranged marriage is _every_ and _all_ days after! I will be your husband, and _you will be my wife_."

Elsa flinched. Her eyes darted. Following her gaze, Arthur saw frost prickling under the door.

 _Frost. Agent Bubbles had warned him...of a phantom...a frost phantom..._

Arthur closed his eyes.

 _Enough. He'd had enough._

"Elsa."

Straight as Excalibur, King Arthur confronted his future queen.

"Elsa, I don't know what you're doing. But, tomorrow we wed. I cannot ask you to love me, I know you do not. But... _please_...do not dishonor me. Because I would _never_ dishonor you."

The following silence was agonizing. For both.

Finally, Arthur touched his chest in a grim, painful farewell.

"Again. You look beautiful. Your wedding dress as well. When I see it tomorrow, I will pretend it is the first."

The door creaked, frozen with frost as King Arthur departed. As the hinges screamed, Jack Frost waited for the young king to disappear.

Then he turned to Elsa.

But Elsa gasped.

"Go!"

Jack faltered. "Elsa? Elsa – "

"Go." Elsa repeated, squeezing her shoulders. Shaking, she covered a tear. "Just go."

Unbelieving, Jack held his staff against his heart.

"Elsa.I just...you're the only one...that believes...that believes I'm _me_. Elsa. Please – "

" _Jack_!" Ice split from Elsa's hand. " _Just_ _GO_!"

Startled, Jack instinctively swung his staff, shattering the ice to fragments.

"Elsa! Don't - Elsa please _hear_ me!"

Elsa rose, threatening a second strike. Tears twinkling into snowflakes she growled.

" _Go_."

Jack raised...then lowered his staff. Heartbroken, he fled.

But, not before blowing a kiss...and breathing enchanted snowflakes onto Elsa's wedding train.

* * *

 **sultal's note: So neat factoid - according to my research, Disney writers/animators actually DID change the color of Elsa's ice, according to her emotions. There are entire SITES devoted to the complexities of Elsa's powers.**

 **Very cool. (Pun intended).**


	62. Chapter 62: Ariel Triton Style

**Chapter 62: Ariel Triton Style**

Somehow Arthur escaped. Somehow he escaped every nitpicking, fault-finding, hypercritical adviser and found sanctuary in the Eastern Tower. Breaking into a run (and tripping on Excalibur), Arthur ran through a long, greystone foyer. Stainglass windows blurred into rainbows as he sprinted to a pair of wooden doors, and wrenched open the right.

Once inside his bed chamber, Arthur did something he'd never done before.

He slammed the door. Hard.

He threw his crown. Harder.

And then he threw Excalibur. Hard as the stone from which the sword was drawn.

Colliding against the wall, Excalibur rang. The sound sliced angrily through the air, sharp as the magical blade itself.

As Excalibur clattered, Arthur clenched his bangs. Sinking down the door, he pressed palms to his eyes and knees to his heart.

For the infinite time, Arthur wished. "Merlin. _Please_. Come back."

Trembling, Arthur clasped his hands, almost in prayer.

"Merlin. I can't...I can't marry..."

Ashamed, Arthur covered his head. His devastation was detected by Tiger and Talbot, two Great Dane mutts that sniffed the air, smelled their _favorite_ person in the _entire_ world, and promptly attacked him with doggy kisses.

"Hey there." Fiercely, Arthur hugged Talbot's neck. "Hey Talbot. Hey boy."

Talbot wagged his tail to heaven. Jealous, Tiger squirmed under Talbot, whimpering for Arthur's attention. Reaching behind Tiger's ear, Arthur scratched. The dogs bayed joyfully, pinning Arthur to the door as he shed every ounce of misery.

Sadly, Arthur stroked his dogs. "Thanks boys. I'm...okay. I ...I have to get back. Let me up."

 _Nope._ Tails wagging, Talbot and Tiger insisted Arthur stay right where he was – on the floor within immediate petting range. In return they slobbered him with puppy love.

Although it was negligent, Arthur gave in. Dogs in his arms, he sagged against the door, barricading himself from the kingdom.

Sunlight poured through the glazed ceiling. Arthur's bed chamber was an atrium of sorts – clear and open to the sky. Wooden rafters crisscrossed beneath skylight panels and large windows opening to the east.

For some reason Arthur preferred the eastern vista (versus Merlin's westward view next door). To the east, the Fantasian landscape disappeared into the Otherland, and inexplicably Arthur found that...comforting. _Why_ was uncertain. However, gazing into the east, with his back to Fantasia, Arthur found solace. It uncluttered his mind, and cleared his frustrations. And strangely...it gave him hope. Like something, or _someone_ , was waiting for him on the other side.

Arthur closed his eyes. He would give _anything_ to leave Fantasia. Could he, Arthur would put the sword back in the stone, and rewrite his story. Rather, he would rewrite _all_ of their stories. His, Merlin's, the guardians', Elsa's...

He would write a happily ever after. For all of them.

Lost in a hopeless fantasy, Arthur dreamed.

 _Writing a happily ever after. Wouldn't that be wonderful? Wonderful, but impossible. And irresponsible._

Glumly, Arthur stroked Tiger's shiny coat. He could almost hear Merlin's grumpy reproof _"Now don't you get any foolish ideas that magic will solve all your problems! Because it won't!"_

Still...

Arthur remembered Headmaster Mickey's allusion to a mysterious storyteller. The headmaster's remark had been abrupt, but very intriguing. However, following his initial rant, Headmaster Mickey had refused to discuss the topic. Apparently the mysterious storyteller was 'none of Arthur's business' – king or not.

 _But_ , Arthur fantasized, _Wouldn't it be wonderful if magical storytellers really did exist? Wouldn't it be wonderful if he could purchase a happily ever after for every Fantasian? Wouldn't it be wonderful...to have reasonable hope...to feel sturdy and safe...to be loved..._

Painfully, Arthur buried into his dogs.

"What does she want me to be?" He whispered, begging for an answer. "I don't know what to do. I don't know what to do. _Please_ Merlin – I _wish_ you were here."

Strangely enough, Arthur was answered by three perky knocks on the door.

 _Knock! Knock! Knockity knock!_

"Merlin?" Seizing the door handle (and wiggling through his dogs) Arthur scampered upright. He called through the door. "Merlin is that – ?"

"Merlin is a snooty, pushy old crab! He never knocks you know that!"

Crushed, Arthur released the door handle.

"Archimedes."

"Don't sound so underprivileged boy!" Archimedes snapped through the door. "Manners, manners, manners! Open up!"

Arthur thumped his forehead against the panel. Miserably he looked sideways at his crown (which had rolled under the bed).

"I'm not here."

"I know that trick, Wart!"

Arthur moaned. "Archimedes how am I going to run away if you're here?"

"Complain, complain, complain. Rude, rude, rude. Didn't Merlin teach you anything about chivalry?"

"Chivalry?"

"Yes." Archimedes muttered. "There is a _lady_ here to see you."

"A...lady?" Nerves jumping, Arthur opened the door. "Elsa? Elsa I'm sorry, I shouldn't have lost my –"

Arthur halted midsentence. Surprised, he blinked at 'the lady' smiling on his doorstep.

"Ariel?"

Ariel, beach bag slung over one shoulder and Archimedes perched on the other, waved.

 _Hi Wart!_

Arthur was stunned. Swiftly though, his confusion turned into worry.

"Ariel. Ariel hello. Is something wrong with the guardians – ?"

Again, Arthur trailed to a halt. Actually taking notice of Ariel as he spoke, he focused perplexedly on the items in Ariel's hands.

One delicious, savory smelling item in particular...

"Is that...?" Arthur's mouth watered. "Ariel. Did you bring _pizza_?"

Ariel made a happy popping sound with her lips. She handed Arthur a checkered pizza box (obviously from _Tony's Restaurant_ ), so Arthur assumed that meant ' _yes_.'

"You...why did you...?" Arthur rotated the pizza box. The underside was warm, and Ariel had written a message on the cardboard lid.

 **Hi Wart! I figured you were CRAZY STRESSED with wedding preparations and you know, like ruling the country (LOL).**

 **I thought we could eat pizza and hang out! Just so you could relax!**

 **OH! And also...**

The message ended. Helpfully, Ariel opened the lid, revealing both the pizza and remaining message written inside. Intoxicated by the garlicky, cheesy, pepperoni smell, Arthur forced himself to read the grease-stained note.

 **ALSO – Merida and Robin think the Vikings might be planning an attack, so we forced Peter to go check it out!**

 **Peter's in the Otherland now, and he should be back later tonight!**

 **Kay? :)**

Arthur almost dropped the pizza.

"The Vikings are _what_?"

* * *

... ... ...

* * *

Arthur was a frazzled little king. THAT was obvious. Ariel could practically see the storm clouds hovering over his head. And when Arthur learned of the potential Viking threat, lightning bolts exploded.

"The Vikings are _what_? Why didn't Merida and Robin tell me last night? Jumping harptoads – where's Excalibur? Where's my crown, under the bed? Tiger! Tabolt! Sit boys! Sit! Ariel you get the other guardians, I'll summon a war council – "

Arthur's reaction was more catastrophic than Ariel had expected or intended. Since her goal had been to flag the rumor (and not instigate transnational war), Ariel had to work fast. Bolting the door with her trident and forcing two slices of pepperoni pizza down Arthur's throat, she insisted that everything was fine and challenged Arthur to a game of _Go Fish_.

 _Oh yeah. Pizza, cards, and pleasant company._ De-stressing Ariel Triton style.

"Are you sure Robin and Merida said _maybe_?" Arthur repeated, handing Ariel a two-of-diamonds. He was losing the game (Ariel was the Seaworld guardian after all – _Go Fish_ was her territory). "Vikings are dangerous. Chief Stoick could hurt Fantasians if he tried."

Ariel stacked Arthur's card in her pile. Leaning over Tiger (they were lounging on the bed), she responded with her purple marker and pad.

 **Yup – Merida and Robin didn't seem tooooooo worried. But we sent Peter anyway. Just to check :) Got any aces?**

"No." Arthur said, brow still bent with concern. "No aces. Go fish. Ariel are you _sure_?"

She nodded.

"Because if the Vikings are even _thinking_ of an attack – " Arthur pressed. "We need to strike first. Captain Shang says their dragons are almost unbeatable. We'd have to plan a counter-fire defense. I just read about that in a book Merlin gave me. You know, shooting down the dragons before they fired, then moving our forces immediately to – "

Reaching across the pizza box, Ariel grasped Arthur's shoulder. She gave a comforting shake, indicating to Arthur that everything was under control.

Arthur read her body language.

"Are you sure?" he said doubtfully.

Ariel grinned. _Yes!_

"One hundred percent?"

Ariel squeezed. _One hundred and SIXTY FOUR percent!_

Uncomfortably, Arthur shuffled his cards. "Because...well you know Peter. I trust him in Skyworld but... Peter _wouldn't_ have been my _first_ choice to spy on the Vikings. Chief Stoick is a little um...pigheaded. Very stubborn. If Stoick catches Peter..."

Arthur cringed. He'd been Peter's classmate and orphanage roommate: Peter's first impressions were usually enough to provoke instant dislike.

Ideally, Arthur would have sent Jim. Ariel and Wendy were honestly too pretty to intimidate the Vikings, and Peter...well Peter was just Peter. And Jim was just Jim. They were different breeds of men.

Although Peter was stealthier and swifter, Jim was methodical and...diplomatic. For example, in the event of capture, Arthur wouldn't have to worry about Jim insulting Stoick's mother.

Moreover, Arthur suspected that Chief Stoick would appreciate Jim's...eh... _stoic-ness_. Actually, Jim and Stoick would probably get along superbly.

But Arthur had _no doubt_ that Chief Stoick would HATE Peter Pan. Peter belonged in the ' _Lousy Peacekeepers'_ group with Merida, Robin, and Flynn. They were free spirits with big mouths and a dangerous sense of humor. Great for parties. Sucky for international relations.

Exasperated, Arthur abandoned the card game. Replacing the cards in the deck, he smoothed his bangs.

"Ariel I don't know. This seems...unsafe. I appreciate you sending Peter, but I wish Merida and Robin had reported to me. Too many Otherlanders are acting funny at the same time. Did Admiral Triton tell you about Sinbad?"

Ariel darkened. Flicking angrily through her cards, she nodded.

"So you _do_ know about Sinbad?" Arthur verified.

Again, Ariel nodded.

Arthur studied her. "You don't seem too happy."

Ariel made a face. _Right on, Majesty._

"Anything I should know?" Arthur asked. "Did you investigate his ship?"

 _No._ Ariel translated with a headshake. To Arthur's frown, she explained on her notepad.

 **Jim wanted to check. He took Wendy.**

Arthur's eyebrows rose.

"Jim wanted to scout Sinbad?"

Ariel rolled her eyes. _Yup._

"Hm." Arthur glanced at Archimedes. The owl was dozing on his pillow, bloated with pizza, but he still summoned the energy to burp. "Pinhead."

Arthur had to agree.

"Ariel...I think...Jim confronting Sinbad's ship...well...its..."

Snuffing, Ariel predicted his response.

 **Like a REALLY REALLY BAD idea?** she wrote.

Arthur nodded, relieved that Ariel agreed.

"Yes. Do you know about their relationship?"

Ariel toyed with her marker before writing.

 **Yes.** She finally answered. **Daddy told me. Sinbad is Jim's father. Jim hates Sinbad. Like HATES. I'm worried he'll freak.**

Arthur tapped the word ' _freak_.'

"That's what I thought. I _actually_ would have sent _Peter_ to spy on Sinbad. Pirates are tricky – Peter would have the advantage, he could anticipate their move. Peter and Jim should have switched. Oh well...at least Wendy is with Jim. She's a clear thinker."

Ariel drew a smiley face on her pad. **Yeah, that's why I let Jim go alone. Wendy won't let him do anything stupid. Sorry Wart – we should have asked you first.**

"It's okay." Arthur said. "I'm glad you took action. That's exactly what I need from you four – teamwork. The more you do it, the easier it will get. But I understand it's hard with the realm separation and everything. Plus, I hear last night was rough."

Quizzically, Ariel peered. _Rough?_

"With Captain Eric." Arthur elucidated, shifting as Talbot crawled across his lap. "And Wendy."

Although Arthur's reference of Wendy made no sense, Ariel bristled at mention of Eric. So vehement were her emotions, a volt of electricity hissed from her trident across the room.

Arthur guessed. "Eric and Jim...butted heads?"

If Ariel could speak, she would have sworn. She nodded instead.

"Sorry." Arthur said.

Ariel shrugged. Bitterly, she started laying out cards in aimless lines. King-of-diamonds, ten-of-clubs, king-of-spades...

As she slapped the cards, Arthur pondered her behavior. Then, smiling, he asked.

"Has Jim proposed?"

Ariel paused, the two-of-hearts in her hand. Setting it, she shook her head.

Arthur was genuinely surprised. "Really? Why not? Oh..." Arthur covered his mouth. "That was rude. Ariel I'm sorry."

His mistake was forgiven, and even welcomed. Batting a hand to allay Arthur's apologies, Ariel glumly explained.

 **He's waiting to ask my Daddy.**

Arthur's mouth dropped.

"No."

 **Yup.**

" _Jim_?"

Ariel sighed. **He's actually annoyingly honorable sometimes.**

"Wow. He's asking your father for your hand." Arthur scratched Talbot's ear. "I would never had guessed that."

Furiously Ariel scribbled across the pad. Her penmanship was barely legible.

 **Me too lol. Daddy's SO mad about the Eric/Sinbad thing – so Jim decided not to ask yet bc Daddy would probably say no. It's SO stupid Wart – I mean we are doing EVERYTHING else including trying to have a**

The purple marker blotted as Ariel stopped. Rereading her last sentence, she crossed it out.

 **Anyway** Ariel continued, twisting her hair as she wrote. **Anyway – I just want to get married. I love Jim. He's perfect. It's like...he makes me, ME. I need him to live, I need him to breath.**

Smile spreading, Ariel wrote. **You know what I mean?**

Arthur read.

"No." he replied softly . "I'm afraid I don't."

Outside the sunlight dimmed. Autumn leaves, creased with color, whisked over Arthur's skylights, further darkening the room.

Arthur whispered.

"She doesn't love me."

Numbly picking through Ariel's cards, Arthur loitered on the queen-of-spades. His opposite hand rest over the king-of-hearts.

"Can't blame her." Arthur said, separating the cards. "We're so _different_. Elsa is...well you know. We all went to school together. Elsa is beautiful...graceful...calm...and she can sing. Did you know that? I heard her once. Her voice is _unbelievable_. Out of this world."

Arthur half laughed. "I can't carry a tune."

"Amen." Archimedes mumbled from the pillow. "Tone def as Merlin."

Arthur rubbed Archimedes' belly. "Too true." he admitted. "Too, too true."

Contemplatively, Ariel fished through the cards. Handing Arthur the ace-of-hearts, she pointed questionably at his chest.

"Um?" Arthur said, not comprehending.

"Oh for all of Christendom!" Archimedes squawked over his double-stuffed belly. "We _all_ know Elsa doesn't love _you_ Wart! We've heard! Cry your heart out! _But do YOU love Elsa_?"

Ariel nodded. She motioned again at the ace. _Do you love Elsa?_

Arthur hesitated. Excalibur glared across the room, warning him not to lie.

Finally, Arthur let the card fall.

"No. I do not."

The next question was an obvious one.

 **Then why marry?** Ariel asked.

"Merlin said so." Arthur said, surprising Ariel with his instantaneous response. "Merlin is a wizard. He can see centuries in the future and eons into the past. His visions are a little cloudy – "

Archimedes hacked.

"A lot cloudy..." Arthur corrected. "But one day, Merlin had a vision of my future wife. He couldn't describe her exactly, and he couldn't hear her name. _But_ one feature was clear: My future wife has white hair. And...Elsa is the only lady in the kingdom with hair that color. So, Merlin arranged the marriage."

Ariel was disenchanted. **And you believed Merlin?** she wrote.

"Merlin knew who I was before we were introduced." Arthur countered. "I remember – I was in the school kitchens with Long John Silver and Jim. Merlin called me by my real name, instead of Wart. He just... _knew_. After that Merlin tutored me through the school year. He knew all my fears, all my doubts, all my dislikes, all my weaknesses and taught me how to defeat them. It was like...we'd known each other for years."

"Either way." Arthur continued, more for himself than Ariel. "I trust Merlin. _I do_. He's my best friend. If Merlin thinks I should marry Elsa, then I will. After all...Merlin taught me that _love is greater than gravity_. He said love is the greatest force of all. I _will_ learn to love Elsa. So then maybe...Elsa will learn...to love..."

Arthur's sentence faded into a frown.

"Ariel." he suddenly said. "Does that make sense? Can love be learned? Can love be...just... _sometimes_? _If when_? _Once_? Does... _does_ that make sense?"

It was a monumental question, one that could determine the fate of Arthur and his kingdom. Can love be learned?

Ariel knew her opinion was flawed, because she had instantly fallen in love with Jim. True, she and Jim disagreed sometimes, but their love was never a question.

 _No_. Ariel thought to herself. _Love_ _cannot be learned. It just happens. Like magic_. _You learn to live with someone – not to love_.

Inwardly, Ariel thought back. _Love and learning._ Jim confused the two, and _that_ was why he was fearful for Wendy. Ariel was _certain_ that Peter loved Wendy. True, Peter was inappropriate and argumentative, but he was just _learning_ to live with Wendy's ways. Similarly, Wendy was secretive and emotional – she was learning to live with Peter's. Unfortunately, Jim misinterpreted their confrontations as harassment. He couldn't see that Peter and Wendy would die for each other.

But Arthur...

Avoiding a response, Ariel brushed her hair. She didn't want to tell Arthur the truth. She didn't want to condemn his marriage on the eve of his wedding. But, from the pain in Arthur's baby blue eyes, Ariel suspected he already knew.

She was right.

"She'll never love me." Arthur said. "Will she?"

Ariel's heart broke. Offering Arthur a long hug, she was uncharacteristically thankful that she could not speak.

Their embrace was interrupted by a mob of advisers and consultants, pounding Arthur's door for kingly advice and wedding preparations. Pushing his sadness under the bed, Arthur retrieved Excalibur, donned his crown, and bid Ariel farewell.

"Thank you for the pizza." Arthur smiled, holding Ariel's hand. "I'll expect a report from Peter when he returns. It was so nice seeing you again. This was fun. Really. Thank you. Oh and Ariel...I think I won _Go Fish_."

Ariel laughed soundlessly all the way down the hall. She'd _killed_ Arthur in _Go Fish_! But, she was relieved he departed on a happy note. Arthur was a good friend. And he was going to be a _fantastic_ king – happily ever after or not. King Arthur was –

Suddenly Ariel stopped, dead in her tracks. Frozen under a main entryway, she tilted her head...and listened.

Someone was singing.

And the singing...

...was her.

She was listening...to _her voice_.

Dropping her beach bag, Ariel ran. Pausing only to press an ear to the wall, she followed her voice across King Arthur's castle, into _Fantasia School for the Magically Skewed_ , down the winding stairs, through the gymnasium, and to the old swimming pool where she'd swum a million meets in school.

It was also the pool where Ariel had escaped the castle. Twice. Once with Jim when the school was attacked. Once with Arthur when they were imprisoned inside.

Cautiously, Ariel entered. The singing had stopped. However the pool was rippling – someone had just left the water.

Ariel scanned the pool. Chlorine fumes stung her eyes as she searched, but a separate feeling stung her insides. Ariel felt like she was being watched.

Slowly, Ariel stalked the cement floors. Extending her trident over the starting blocks, she ran the golden teeth through the water.

The water teemed. The pool boiled. The ripples turned gold.

But the singing, _her voice_ , did not return.

It was _very_ suspiciously that Ariel departed.

From the girl's locker room, Sinbad watched her go. He contemplated whistling, but after one look at her deadly trident, he decided to admire the beautiful girl from afar.

"Sinbad you old scalawag...welcome back."

Diving into the pool, Sinbad hauled the grappling hooks and lifeline from the drain. Securing the hooks to a metal grate and adjusting the seashell necklace under his tunic, he slipped into Fantasia.

"Time to find me a princess."

* * *

 **...**

 **Big4girl poem:**

 ** _Heart throbbing, caught sobbing, left alone in the cold. Wishing you were here, but you had to disappear. Did you know it was meant to be? I'm having doubts, I'm sorry for my shouts, but anger resides in me. Did you know? Did you know it was meant to be?_**

 **...**

* * *

 **sultal's note (grab a snack, it's a long one) :P**

 **For anyone that is still a little unsure - YES "The King" of the Otherland IS Arthur. They ARE THE SAME PERSON. Just so you can see where my head was when I planned this, here are the hints that I gave...**

 **Hint 1:** "The Once and Future King" is an actual legend and a story written by T.H. White. King Arthur IS called "the Once and Future King" because he is suppose to rise again (so technically, our planet is still waiting for his return). lol.

 **Hint 2:** Google Caliburn. You will get results for Excalibur. They are two names for the same sword. I thought it would make sense that different cultures would call the same sword different names.

 **Hint 3:** Avalon - Avalon is the resting place of Excalibur in Arthurian legend.

 **Hint 4:** Emrys = Merlin. For all you BBC "Merlin show" fans, I know you knew that Merlin and Emrys were the same person! Those of you that have read T.A. Barron's Merlin series also know that Emrys is his name. So when Schmendrick zapped Emrys with magic and Emrys disappeared...so did Merlin in Fantasia.

 **Hint 5:** I use the same terms and speech patterns for Arthur and "The King." For instance, both are a little clumsy, but genuine, with baby blue eyes and thick bangs. Both tend to say things like "cool" when they get excited and forget to be kingly :)

 **LONG NOTE - sorry about that!**

 **Oh and btw - AGAIN with the NO OC policy! Tiger and Talbot are actual dogs in Disney's The Sword in the Stone. Possibly the cutest dog scene in ANY movie, where they run to great Arthur and topple him into the wall :) Aw. Puppy love!**

 **keep writing!**


	63. Chapter 63: Stranger with a Scimitar

**Chapter 63: Stranger with a Scimitar**

"Shadow _please_ come out."

Jim listened to Wendy from the hall. Following their pirate misadventure, Peter's shadow had cried itself under the bed and out of Wendy's reach. Hiding in the darkness, it hissed angrily whenever she ventured underneath to apologize. Once it stung her with an unhappy memory – the unhappy memory that Jim glimpsed at sea.

The unhappy memory, Jim dreaded, that involved Peter.

As Wendy called the shadow, Jim stewed outside her door. Long, orange sunrays burned the hallway. It was late afternoon and Jim's third attempt to approach Wendy since their return home. Upon arrival, Wendy had chased the shadow to her room. Jim had followed her with the intent of interrogation but Wendy had closed the door, making clear talking was not an option.

Wendy was in fragile spirits. Jim was sure further confrontation would make her cry, so he had begrudgingly postponed the discussion in favor of controlling his own emotions.

Controlling his emotions. _Yeah. Right._ It had been a day-long endeavor, and Jim was losing.

He'd tried _everything_ to keep calm; tinkering, reading, sleeping, running, pacing, brooding, music, house repair...but nothing worked. He kept thinking. He couldn't stop _thinking_.

There were _so_ many problems on his mind but unlike a math equation, not one had a solution. Jim could only fixate on one dilemma, then switch to the next when it became too exhausting.

It was _excruciating_. Jim worried about the Vikings – what were they scheming? He worried about his mother – after tomorrow would he ever see her again? He worried about Ariel – were they being reckless trying to fulfill her wish? He worried about Peter - what did that stupid jerk want with Wendy? He worried about Wendy – _what_ for the love of god was she keeping a _secret_ ?

And he worried about Sinbad.

Jim tensed. The mere _thought_ of his father was poisonous. It made him sick.

 _Why_? _Why_ the _Hell_ had Sinbad returned? He left once. Why didn't the son of a bitch just keep the fuck _away_?

Jim fumed inside his memories. Ransacking Sinbad's boat had felt _awesome_. Jim had never been so emotionally stimulated. It felt _great_. But...

But when Peter's shadow attacked and Jim relived the memory of Sinbad's abandonment...it was like Sinbad had the last word. It wouldn't have mattered if _The Princess_ sunk. It wouldn't have even mattered if Wendy knocked Sinbad cold with her 'left hook.' Sinbad was inside Jim's head. And he would _always_ be his father.

Heavily, Jim turned inside Wendy's room. Earlier, Ariel had criticized him for acting like Admiral Triton. She'd advised him to be Wendy's friend, _not_ her father. Well, Jim had met Wendy's father, and Mr. Darling was filthy as Sinbad.

In fact, of all the fathers Jim knew, _Admiral Triton_ was the best. Jim didn't like the admiral but he did _respect_ him. Personal conflicts aside, Admiral Triton _was_ a good father. He did everything to keep Ariel safe.

Drearily, Jim joined Wendy. As he watched her implore the shadow, he had to admit: he and Admiral Triton weren't _that_ different. They were actually quite similar. _Damn it_.

"Shadow _please_. Please just let me look." Wendy adjusted on her side. Nosing under the bed she probed a dark corner, feeling for the shadow. "I'm sorry. I am _so_ sorry. But the scars won't heal if you don't let me – _ouch_!"

Wendy yelped and Jim heard the shadow hiss. Jumping in pain, Wendy yelped again as her head wacked the wooden bedframe.

Jim reached.

"Okay. That's enough."

Guiding Wendy from under the bed, Jim sat her upright and inspected. She wasn't bleeding, but a bump was already forming beneath her hair.

"Morph." Jim released Wendy's head. "Turn into a flashlight."

"Jim." Wendy objected as Morph happily solidified. "Jim don't he's cross – "

"Hey!" Clicking the flashlight (Morph giggled), Jim illuminated under the bed. He found the shadow curled against the bed-leg. As he focused, the shadow snarled.

"She said sorry." Jim aimed the beam. "She said sorry and she wants to help. Get your ass out here!"

"Jim!" Wendy grappled for the flashlight. "Jim stop swearing at him! Can't you see he's hurt!"

"It's going to get worse if it keeps – "

"Jim!" Wendy snatched the flashlight's end. Morph wailed as they wrestled. "Jim stop antagonizing him – "

"It's an _it_ not a _him_!"

"He's a _him_!"

"Wendy it's a god damn shadow!"

"He's Peter's soul!"

"Even better! Just let it rot under the - "

"I am the shadow worker!" Wendy yanked, squeezing Morph into his original form. "And I know more about shadows than you do! Shadow is my friend and the only one I have the Underworld! I'm not leaving him alone under the bed! So stop being difficult, stop being rude, and try being civil to _Peter_ for a change – "

They both caught her slip. Wendy quickly corrected.

"Peter's shadow." She said, hiding a quivering lip. "Just...why can't you _just_ _try_ to get along? He's just a silly shadow. Why must you boys _always_ fight like – "

Wendy paused. She lowered as the shadow edged into the lamplight.

"Shadow?"

The shadow dallied. As Wendy beseeched again, it slowly dragged from under the bed and crept into her lap.

"Ohh. Good boy." Motherly, Wendy gathered the shadow. "See? Now isn't this better than being mean?"

The shadow sniffed, unfavorable opinions clear. To emphasize, it glowered at Jim.

"What I said to Jim goes for you too." Wendy reprimanded. "There's no need to be horrid."

Positioning the shadow before her, Wendy retrieved her needle and thread. Sighting the needle, the shadow scampered for the bed, but Wendy caught it's foot.

"Wait. I'm not going to hurt you. I'm just going to stitch you're scars."

The shadow covered it's cheeks. The silver scars glimmered as it kicked. _Nuh uh! Not THIS shadow you're not!_

"Shadow." Wendy warned. She pulled as the shadow seized the bedpost. "Shadow please. Just let me try!"

The shadow hugged the bedpost. _Nothin' doin'!_

"Shadow!"

Adamantly, she shadow refused. _No way!_

"Shadow! Please just let me – "

"For crying out loud!" Jim moved into the shadow's view. "Whatever the Hell you are, listen to her! You know she's a sweetheart and wouldn't have stabbed you unless it was absolutely necessary! You freaked out, you attacked us both, so _grow some_ and let go!"

Without releasing the bedpost, the shadow calmed. Unappeased, it glanced back at Wendy, distastefully regarded Jim, and then returned to Wendy once more.

Wendy's eyes traveled over the shadow's silver scars. She spoke, but her voice was very small.

"Please?"

If it had a heart, the shadow's heartstrings would have been plucked. Defeated, he released the bedpost and sagged before Wendy (after throwing an irritable look at Jim).

"All right. Now..." Gingerly, Wendy stabilized the shadow's head. Lips pressed in concentration, she drew her needle to a silver scar. "Hold still. This might..."

Wendy skimmed the needle through the shadow's cheekbone. The shadow flinched, but relaxed as Wendy delicately passed her needle and thread under the scar.

Jim was enthralled. Wendy rarely utilized her powers; shadow working was a tool of necessity (unlike Peter, who flaunted his magical gift). Sitting quietly beside her, Jim watched.

Wendy patched expertly, needle and thread gliding in her hand. Once confident her plan had worked, she glanced at Jim.

"You're staring."

Jim nodded. "It's cool."

"It's...just sewing."

Jim watched the needle twirl like a magic wand through the shadow.

"Still cool. Coordinated. You're good at it."

"...thank you."

"Yeah."

Wendy looped the needle for a moment more.

"I'm sorry for shouting." Knotting the thread, she assessed a second scar. The scar was longer, and nastier than the first. Tilting the shadow's head, Wendy ran a thumb over the deepest point. "I know you meant well. Even though you're language was _less_ to be desired."

Jim smiled. "Sorry."

"It's alright. Goodness knows I almost cursed you when we attacked Sinba – Um. Well. When we were out to sea..."

Wendy blushed. Embarrassed for mentioning Sinbad and unable to hide the blunder, she leaned closer to the shadow and muttered scathingly to herself.

"Graceful Wendy Moria. _Very_ ladylike."

The shadow humphed. _Yeahpp. Very._

Jim studied the carpet. He didn't want to discuss Sinbad. But, Wendy's blunder was the perfect segue...

"How's you're neck, by the way?"

"My neck?"

"Yeah." Jim motioned. "When the cannonball hit us."

"Oh." Wendy glanced quickly. "It's fine. Nothing to worry about. A little rest, nice warm shower, and it should be better in no time. It's just...my ankle is a little scratched."

"Oh. _Right_." Jim suddenly remembered. He'd been so busy hating Sinbad, Wendy's underwater attacker had gone forgotten.

"Wen, I'm sorry I forgot. Is it bad?"

"Not really. Just pink. That's all."

"Did you disinfect it?"

"Well there's the pot calling the kettle black."

"Well _did_ you?"

Wendy gave a half condescending and half amused glance.

"Please. Of course I did. And there was hardly any bleeding." She shifted as Jim tried to x-ray her ankle through her jeans. "Just a scratch."

Jim forced himself to take her word.

"What was that anyway?" he asked. "Did you see anything underwater?"

Wendy's hand slowed. Thread suspended, she contemplated before continuing.

"I didn't _see_ anything. But..." Aggravated, she resumed her work. "But it felt...odd."

"Odd?"

"Yes. Odd. Like...oh I don't know. Like not what I would have expected. Not like fins, or teeth, or claws, or tentacles, or any number of undersea monster parts one would imagine. It was...scaly...and fingery...and..."

Wendy shuddered. "I don't know. Odd. Either way...I don't like deep water. That was dreadful. Thank you for saving me. You _and_ Shadow."

The shadow humbly waved. As Wendy turned to re-thread her needle, it stuck it's tongue at Jim.

Jim retaliated.

"So why'd the moron shadow go crazy, anyway?"

Wendy stopped the shadow before he could tackle Jim.

"I don't know."

Wendy stroked the shadow's cheek. Her fingers brushed lightly over the silver scars, now stitched to fine lines.

"I don't know." She repeated worriedly. "But he's never done that before. Not even the first time. It was different when I detached him from Peter. Then, he was attacking out of instinct. Most shadows do. But today..."

Sighing, she began mending the last scar.

"Today was different. Today Shadow... was...out of his mind. Not himself. He...he wasn't Peter's soul."

Jim frowned. "He wasn't Peter's soul?"

"Well physically, yes. Of course physically he was still _Peter's sou_ l. But..."

Wendy finished with a tight double-knot. As the shadow rushed to inspect itself in the mirror, Wendy halfheartedly attempted to explain.

"But _spiritually_ I suppose, he wasn't Peter's soul. Peter's inner demon is not necessarily cruel...just mischievous, playful. Sometimes vindictive, often vengeful, and a little insensitive. But never _cruel_. And what I felt today...Well. That was cruel. It was almost like someone else was working through the shadow..."

Dissatisfied with her explanation, Wendy unlaced her needle.

Silently, Jim wondered if she'd meant to use ' _working through the shadow_ ' in her description, or if her word selection coincidentally matched the phrase ' _shadow worker_.'

Regardless, Jim ignored his concern. They were back on target for a smooth transition...

"So, when the shadow attacked me..." Jim touched his head. "Did you see him?"

Wendy bit her lip. Trying to avoid an uncomfortable topic, she feigned ignorance.

"I don't know what you mean." she said, respooling her thread.

Jim _wished_ he could accept her invitation to end the conversation. But...

"Did you see my memory?" Jim swallowed knives. "Of Sinbad?"

Wendy finished winding her thread. Taking her handguard and without looking at Jim, she replaced the spool.

"Yes."

She sounded ashamed, like she was intruding.

Jim cleared his throat. It didn't help.

"He's ugly. Huh?"

Wendy clicked her needle into place. "I only saw his back. And hand. When he..."

She didn't finish, but there was no need to describe. Jim would remember even without the shadow's vision...

 _Dad come back. Hand in his face. Fingers in his mouth. A violent push. Face in the dirt._

Yeah. Memories like that didn't die. They turned into nightmares, souvenirs of the past. Forever.

Jim ended the silence. "He tastes terrible huh?"

Wendy muffed a feeble laugh. Apologetically, she squint at Jim.

"Nah. It's okay." Jim said, grateful to have plunged in and out of the topic. "You saw my memory. So now we're even."

He answered before Wendy could ask. "Because when the shadow attacked you, I saw yours."

She drained. Every color blanched from Wendy's face.

"You..."

"I am going to ask this once." Jim said, moving between Wendy and the door. "And I don't want you to lie or pretend to misunderstand. Wendy: was that Peter?"

Yep. He was right. He called it. She cried.

"No." Furiously, Wendy wiped her cheek. "No it was _not_. Why do always assume – "

"Then who was it?" Jim demanded, forcing himself to ignore her tears. "Who was the man crawling all over you? Who was the man a million times stronger, hands up your dress, teeth in your mouth, scaring you to death – "

"Jim stop it – "

"Then tell me who –"

"It was my father!"

Jim froze. "Your...Wendy are you lying?"

Angrily Wendy grabbed a pillow.

"Why would I lie?" she cried into the pillowcase. "I keep _telling_ you I don't lie, but you pry and pry and pry and pry..."

She faded into the pillow. Stomach clenching, Jim recollected the offense that Wendy was referring.

Six years ago, Maleficent and Captain Hook had kidnapped their families. Wendy, Jim, and their classmates had been away at a ball. Once aware, Jim and Wendy had separated to search for their families, and Wendy had been attacked. By her father.

Jim had never pursued the incidence. He had never forced Wendy to divulge what happened. Wendy _did not_ like talking about her father, and that night had been traumatic. So Wendy's claim, that her memory had been of Mr. Darling, was plausible.

Nevertheless, Jim was suspicious.

"You were wearing the blue dress." Jim nodded at Wendy's tea-length dress hanging neatly by the window. "The gift from Peter."

Wendy said something into the pillow.

"Again?" Jim gently asked.

"My _ball_ gown –! " Wendy reemerged, nose bright red. "My ball gown was _also_ sky blue! Remember?"

Jim did. Although he didn't _completely_ believe her, the _possibility_ of her account being true was harrowing. And it was enough.

"So...your dad...?"

Wendy folded the pillow around her ears and over her head. Again she mumbled mush into the cushion, but it sounded suspiciously like ' _James Pleiades Hawkins just shut up_.' Well, it was probably more eloquent, but her connotation was clear.

Jim sighed. He looked at Morph. Morph burst into tears.

"Wen..." Back against the bed, Jim leaned Wendy against him. "What's this make it? The second time I've made you cry?"

Wendy dug her elbow into his ribs. Without rising from the pillow, she held up three fingers.

He cringed.

"Third? Ah. Um. Well you know what they say...third time's a charm."

She groaned. Morph sobbed. The shadow rolled it's eyes. _And I'M suppose to be the bad guy._

Jim squeezed Wendy. Head on hers, he prayed she would hear his sincerity.

"Wendy. I...I know I can't keep saying I'm sorry. But – "

Dropping the pillow, Wendy hugged his chest.

"I don't want to go." she cried into his shoulder. "Jim I don't want to go back to the Underworld, I don't want to leave you, or Peter, or Ariel, or Sarah, or Michael, or John, or you – "

Jim let her cry. Fighting a heartache of his own, he held tight. There was nothing he could do except pretend the embrace was strong enough to hold them in Fantasia forever.

But Jim was a cynic. And Wendy was a realist. They indulged in adventure and fantasy, but both recognized the inevitable. Both understood the truth.

"Okay." Jim eased Wendy at arm's length. Contemplating her tears, he offered a sleeve.

"Blow?"

Wendy laughed so abruptly, tears blew from her eyes and out of her nose.

Jim waited as Morph molded into a handkerchief. As Morph dabbed Wendy's cheeks, Jim smoothed stray tears with his sleeve.

"Okay Wen." Jim dictated, fierce with resolve. "This is what we're going to do. This time around, we're going to plan. Tomorrow, when we leave – no don't cry, listen. Tomorrow, when you're in the Underworld and I'm in Outerworld, I'll send Morph down. When he finds you, I want you to write me a letter."

Jim spread his hands. "I want you to be as heartbroken and girly as you can. Emotional time bomb – just explode. Give the letter to Morph, and Morph will bring it to me. I'll expect at least five pages. Got it?"

Wendy shook her head. "You'll be in space."

"I'll wait by the Wishing Star. Morph can find that easy."

"But the pirates, the aliens, the shooting stars – "

"Doesn't matter." Jim took Wendy's hands. "I'm not going anywhere until I know you're okay. Got it?"

Wendy sighed. It was enormous. "Will you write me back?"

"Duh."

She looked up. "Promise?"

Jim smiled. Remembering their 'promise' to stay best friends forever, he offered a pinkie.

"Promise."

They pinkie-swore. They hugged. Morph cuddled Peter's shadow, who unenthusiastically complied.

"So..." Still hugging, Jim patted Wendy's shoulder. "Your curfew is still twelve o'clock, right?"

"Oh – !"

 _Slap_.

Jim grinned as Wendy hit the back of his head. He tickled. She pulled his rattail. They parted, best friends.

"All right, I'm off."

Jim led Wendy into the hall and downstairs. Filling her a glass of water (and forcing her to drink), he prepared to depart.

"Since I don't have a solar surfer _or_ bike – " Jim glared at the shadow. "I have to walk to Center-Point. You know. For the flower."

Wendy smiled. "So romantic."

"Ha." Good-naturedly, Jim tossed a dish towel. "Whatever. You going to be okay?"

Wendy caught the towel. "Yes. Vinny's family owns the flower shop. Vinny is my demolitions expert, so if you drop my name, you'll get faster service. Oh, and don't buy the baby's breath."

Unexpectedly, Jim flinched. "Uh...the what?"

"Baby's breath." Quizzically, Wendy peered. "Vinny use to sell them in the shop before he started experimenting with dynamite. It's a type of flower. Baby's breath."

Wendy waited for him to laugh.

"Jim I'm teasing." she concernedly explained when he didn't.

"Oh. Right." Speedily, Jim nodded. "My bad, just didn't get the reference."

Wendy tilted, reviewing his reaction. "I suppose."

"Yeah." Ducking into his jacket, Jim made for the door. "I'll see you later, kay? Again, sorry I made you cry."

"Oh." Wendy shrugged. "What are sister's for?"

"Ha! Don't give me license."

"You don't need one.

"Sad but true. Okay Wen..."

Grinning, Jim opened the door to leave.

Sharply Wendy stopped him.

"Jim wait!"

He turned swiftly, almost anticipating her appeal. If Wendy was going to break, it would be a second before it was too late. "What's wrong?"

Wendy stared.

"I'll...see you at midnight."

Whatever internal battle she was fighting, Jim could see Wendy had just lost.

But he didn't care. For him, it was a win.

"Okay. Midnight. Good girl. I'll see you then. Bye, Wen."

"...bye."

Jim smiled. The door shut.

Peter's shadow rounded on Wendy with his finger wagging. _LIAR! Oh you liar, liar pants on fire!_

Wendy scowled. "I see your mood's improved."

The shadow circled Wendy twice, blocking her path from the stairs. Crossing it's index fingers, it danced before her. _Naughty, naughty, naughty!_ _Someone told a lie!_

Wendy swatted. "You can't prove that. You're just a silly – Shadow stop!"

The shadow had poked Wendy's temples, generating the memory of Peter (and _not_ her father) unzipping her dress. _Ha! You lied! I win!_ Victoriously it paraded around Wendy –

-until she started to cry.

"Is this a _game_ you boys are playing? _How Many Times Can We Make Wendy Cry_? Fine game _OVER_ , I don't have _any_ tears left!"

Wendy charged upstairs. As the shadow fluttered overhead, she viciously started packing.

"None of you care!" She said, stuffing her dress into an old school backpack. Crossing to the closet, she threw in slippers, boots, and blazer. "None of you care to stop fighting just _once_ in each other's company! None of you have the decency to realize that _I don't like it_ when you _fight_! I care about you – _why_ can't you care about each other?"

Wendy wrenched open her chest of drawers. The first thing she saw was her garter.

Wendy staggered, thought of Peter, thought of Jim – and drowned in tears.

"What do I do?" she sobbed. "What do I do? Someone just tell me _what do I do_?"

The shadow scratched guiltily behind an ear. Wafting over to Wendy, it shaped funny animals with it's hands, trying to make her laugh. When the finger puppets failed, the shadow deliberated.

Then, gently this time, it touched her temples. Fine tuning the severity, the shadow gave Wendy a memory: the memory of her mother's death.

"Mother..." Wendy breathed deeply as the image faded. "I...I could ask..."

Wendy kissed the shadow's cheek. As she disappeared, calling back her thanks, the shadow rubbed the tingling spot. Why, it was turning a little pink!

Shouldering her backpack, Wendy raced through the kitchen. Mind rerouting the way to the cemetery, she flung open the door –

-and collided with a stranger. A stranger with a scimitar.

* * *

 **...**

 **Big4girl poem:**

 _ **Wendy, Wendy, getting bendy, how do your lies grow? Getting weaker, getting chicer, oh my what a show! Shadow, soul, nightmare, bowl. I'm your best friend! Shadow knows! Shadow grows! When Wendy sheds a smile! Come and do it show that smile for a while!**_

 **...**

* * *

 **sultal's note:**

 **(1) FAN ART weekend! Pictures of Wen/Jim (tying the tie) and Mr. Pan on my deviant art page. Oh yes - guess who got a 50 pack of colored pencils for xmas? sultal did! FYI - I HATE the pic of Peter...stilll working out the kinks. Scanners are evil...wasn't feeling the hair either... oh well.**

 **(2) The song "Airplanes" (the one with B.o.B and Eminem) was just in my head in this chapter. It's bad ass. Why not? :P**

 **(3) Yes, in Atlantis, Vinny mentions that he sold "baby's breath" in his flower shop. lol.**


	64. Chapter 64: Ghosts of the Past

**Chapter 64: Ghosts of the Past**

"Okay Sarah, don't – Holy shit! WRONG one! Was not expecting...awwwwww."

Sinbad was surprised: T _his girl was not Sarah! This girl was...awwww. She was a pipsqueak! Aww. He he. This was going to be SO easy._

* * *

 _... ... ..._

* * *

Wendy was surprised: _WHO on earth was THIS?_

Wendy backtracked, pushing the stranger's hands from her waist. When they collided he had grabbed, crouched, and almost lifted - like he was planning to sling her over his shoulder.

And now he was… _baby talking_?

"Awwww." The stranger repeated. Scimitar balanced across his back, he leaned. "Aren't you like the cutest little shrimp ever? I bet I could stick you in my pocket and no one would ever hear you scream. Would they, Scrimpy?"

Wendy bristled.

"I _beg_ your pardon?"

The stranger's mouth twitched, fighting a laugh. As he let loose, Wendy's brain itched with recognition; although they'd just met, the stranger's mannerisms were _intensely_ familiar. His idiosyncrasies reminded her of someone, but Wendy could _not_ identify who.

Regardless, the stranger was odious. Yes, she said it: _odious_!

Despite his wide smile, warm laughter, and chummy behavior, the stranger's greeting had been laced with a threat. The threat was disguised with sugary adjectives, but the subtext was clear: the stranger made known he was bigger and stronger than Wendy.

And he was. He was formidable. Easily a head taller than Peter _or_ Jim, the stranger had shoulders like a bull, but he moved swifter than a breeze. His tone was sweet, his connotations were salty, and he was clearly fluent in 'sailor's mouth.'

Oh yes. This man was a beast. Although she tried not to look intimidated, Wendy believed the stranger was _not_ exaggerating when he threatened to ' _stick her in his pocket_.'

Still, there was something… _likeable_ about this stranger.

Wendy wouldn't overstate her attraction (the man was a brute) but _something_ about him was comfortable and familiar. Perhaps it was his swashbuckle features (admittedly romantic), or his sunny brown eyes, or his chiseled face, or the nickname he gave her without asking…

 _Well_. Wendy thought. It _certainly_ wasn't the way he was laughing at her.

"Sir." Wendy glared as he continued to laugh. "Can I _help_ you? Are you looking for someone?"

"Ah of course!" The stranger pretended to wipe a tear. "Of course it speaks with an accent. _Might I help you? I beg your pahdon_. _Wooodint it be loverly?!_ _Please sir, I want some mo'._ Adorable."

Wendy glowered. He was mocking her accent. _Charming_.

"Are you _quite_ finished?"

"Oh you're angry. Sorry Scrimpy, you're just so adorable. I didn't know they made them in your size anymore. Been a lonnnnnnng time. Long time. Anyhoo…"

The stranger flapped off his bandanna. Brown hair swept around his eyes.

Wendy's memory roared _– SO familiar! WHO did he remind her of_?

"I need to speak with the woman of the house." The stranger leaned as Wendy edged into the doorway, obscuring his view. "So how about you be a good girl and tell Sarah I'm here?"

Wendy blocked the door. "May I ask who's calling?"

"Sure. Me."

"Who are you?"

"Old uh... _friend_. Let's go with that."

"Name?"

"Ah, ah, ah. Mind your manners, Scrimpy."

"My _name_ is Wendy, not – "

"Details aside," Stepping powerfully, the stranger grasped the door. "I've been hunting all _freaking_ day for Sarah Hawkins. Apparently the Benbow burned down, and this godforsaken rock is her new pad. Cool. Sweet. _Su casa es mi casa_. So…"

Towering over Wendy, the stranger nodded inside. His voice became dangerous. Very dangerous.

"So, because you're adorable, I'll play nice. Those are actually two of my favorite words: _play nice_. So Scrimpy, one more time: _Go. Get. Sarah. Hawkins_."

As an afterthought, he grinned. " _Please_."

Wendy gripped her backpack. Glancing at the stranger's scimitar, she tried to sound bold.

"Sarah is not here. And I'm not sure I would call _even_ if she was."

The scimitar glint. The stranger clenched the door frame.

"Really?"

"Yes." Wendy said, standing straight. "Really. Sarah is at work. And your behavior – "

"So it's just you?" Releasing the door, the stranger cracked a knuckle. "Just you all alone in this big ol' house? Huh. Well I guess no one _would_ hear you scream. Interesting. So why you here, Scrimpy? What'd you do? Break in?"

"No." Wendy pulled the door. She almost called Shadow as the stranger stopped it with his foot. "No, I live here. And you are trespassing on – "

"Whoa. Wait." The stranger frowned. "You _live_ here?"

"Yes. And you –"

"Like permanently?"

"Well no, but yes, but no, but – it doesn't matter. You can't just – "

"So…" Curiously, the stranger observed. "Are you….like his girlfriend or something?"

Wendy _assumed_ he meant Jim. After all, this stranger was acquainted with Sarah (or thought he was). It made sense he'd know her son as well.

"If you mean Jim, no." Wendy tugged the door. The stranger's foot didn't budge, but his eyes flickered at mention of Jim. "We are not dating. But if we were, I _certainly_ would _not_ live _here_."

The stranger snuffed. "Oooookay. Apparently _one_ of us is a virgin."

If she could reach his scimitar, Wendy would have stabbed him with it.

"Apparently," she retorted. " _One_ of us is _not_."

"Ha! _Me-ow_!" Playfully the stranger clawed. "Down pussy cat! Whew. Okay Miss _'Not The Girlfriend_.' Who are you? Maid? Housekeeper? I'm guessing you're not the mistress."

Wendy clenched fistfuls of anger.

"I'm his sister."

" _Sister_?" The stranger stepped back, eyebrows lifting. "You're his… _sister_? But then...that would mean Sarah...remarried…"

The stranger crossed his arms, looking between Wendy, the lit household, and finally the ocean beyond Pirate's Point.

" _Sister_ …So Sarah…"

Abruptly, he spit.

"Whore."

Wendy was revolted.

" _Excuse me_?" All fears aside, she confronted the stranger as his saliva dripped down the door. "How dare you! That is _disgusting_! Who _do_ you think you are – ?"

"No one important, _that's_ for sure! Sister! _Sister_! God!" Repulsed, the stranger replaced his bandana and re-bolstered his scimitar. After reexamining Wendy, he scoffed. "I can't believe it! You don't even look like – god! _God_! What a freaking – down the drain – all of it! Just because ten crummy years go by she – GOD! _Sister_!"

Fuming, the stranger clipped Wendy's chin. As she slapped his hand, he turned on a heel.

"Later Scrimpy. Forget I was ever here!"

Wendy was so appalled her retort came long after the stranger disappeared down Pirate's Point.

"With pleasure!"

She slammed the door, hoping he would hear. Remembering the saliva, she quickly reopened and sponged the panel with soap.

"Men." she muttered, wringing the sponge clean. Including Peter and Jim in her grievances, Wendy donned her backpack. "Horrible, blunt, foul mouthed men – "

Wendy paused on the threshold. Fingering the lock, she gazed after the stranger and wondered if he would return. Although he hadn't used the scimitar, Wendy suddenly feared for Michael and John. Her brothers would arrive via the stranger's path: what if they should meet? What if the stranger followed them home?

Indecisively Wendy bit her lip. She hadn't much time to spare. She needed to talk to her mother (well, her gravestone). And she needed to prepare Peter's dinner, which meant shopping. Moreover, if she tarried too long at Pirate's Point, Jim would return; and Wendy couldn't endure _any_ more guilt.

Discontented with either option, Wendy settled on a compromise: she wrote a letter. Addressing her concerns and slipping the note inside Sarah's bedroom, Wendy departed for the cemetery.

The cemetery.

Wendy did not fear the cemetery. In fact, she did not fear death. Wendy was a rare individual; she believed _wholeheartedly_ in heaven, and expected (even longed) to reunite with her mother when she died. The afterlife was not a question; it just was.

"Hello mother."

Gently, Wendy settled before her mother's grave. Pushing autumn wildflowers against the stone base, she read the engraving:

 **MARY G DARLING : LOVING WIFE. LOVING MOTHER.**

For a moment Wendy sat. The wind had sharpened, and the clouds were churning overhead. Shivering, Wendy glanced at the adjacent gravestone.

 **GEORGE M DARLING : LOVING HUSBAND. LOVING FATHER.**

The inscription frowned at her. Painfully cognizant of the lie she'd told Jim, Wendy shyly addressed her father.

"He…hello father. I'm…I'm sorry that I said it was you...in that memory. But, well you see…" she returned to her mother's gravestone. "That's why I'm here."

The wind rustled. Leaves soared over the cemetery, scattering haphazardly as Wendy's thoughts.

Hugging her backpack, Wendy struggled to start. She was embarrassed, ashamed, and already repentant.

"You know, it's strange." she finally said, glancing at her mother's grave. "You would think that after all this time, I would be able to make decisions for myself. But I can't. It seems that the longer you're gone…the more I need you."

The wind relented, just a breath. Accepting it as a good omen, Wendy continued. She was nervous, so she spoke fast.

"You see mother, there is this boy. You don't know him. His name is Peter. Peter Pan. And…" Tearfully, Wendy smiled. "And he's _wonderful_. He's everything I can't be – confident, proud, brave, and strong. He has red hair, black eyes, and such a devilish smirk. Yes, I know he's a little conceited…"

She looked up. She could almost see the twinkle in her mother's eyes, gently questioning her description.

"Well…" Wendy admitted. "Yes, Peter is _very_ conceited. Awfully. But mother…I love him. _So_ much. But…Jim…"

Wendy rubbed her forehead.

"Jim. Well, you must know Jim by now. After all, we met when you went to heaven. I know you sent him to me. In any case…Jim dislikes Peter. They're like two hurricanes, always bickering. I hate it. I hate it when they fight. But they don't seem to care. And they can't seem to stop."

The wind cut harder. Leaves scratched over Wendy's arms.

"Mother." Wendy looked directly at Mary's name. "I came today because…because I'm going to do something… _awful_. I've tried to be a lady, just like you…but I _can't_. Peter won't wait for me. And I love him, _I do_. I love Jim as well, but he doesn't understand that Peter and I…are engaged. And I can't tell him. I can't lose him. I..."

Wendy closed her eyes. "Mother. I can't be honest with Jim. So I have to be honest with you. When Peter gets home… I'm going…to…"

She couldn't say it. Tears flicking into the wind, she cried.

"But I'm scared. I'm so, so scared. I don't know what to do, what to wear, how to act, what to say... I don't know how to make him happy. I…mother _please_. Help me."

Again, Wendy's faith was unbreakable. But even she was _utterly_ amazed when the wind carried Mary Darling's wildflowers to a lonely grave, facing the west. The tombstone was white as sea foam, but aged with ivy. And the golden lettering read:

 ** _\- REST IN PEACE -_**

 ** _Stars will shimmer_**

 ** _Over the sea_**

 ** _You are my world_**

 ** _My one melody._**

 **\- ATHENA TRITON -**

"Athena Triton. Ariel's mother... _Ariel_ …"

Wendy squeezed her chest. Turning, she smiled at her mother's grave.

"Thank you."

Leaving the wildflowers (and trusting her mother wouldn't mind), Wendy left the cemetery for the Triton Mansion. If anyone could help her it would be Ariel.

Wendy marveled: _How did her mother know? How did her mother know that what she needed most, was a big sister?_

The wind howled after Wendy, rippling her blue ribbon like a streamer.

From the cemetery's crest, Pitch Black watched.

"Interesting…" he murmured, stroking a snarling nightmare. As Wendy's blue ribbon disappeared, he grinned. " _Very_ interesting."

* * *

 **...**

 **Big4girl poem:**

 _ **Sarah Hawkins look who's talkin' when I find you have more kids! Who's the father, Jim's the brother, what do you think of me! I can't control it, anger rolling. Sweat dripping on my forehead. Mark my words! You're coming with me! And we will sail the seas!**_

 **...**


	65. Chapter 65: The Little Mistress

**Chapter 65: The Little Mistress**

Ariel had one word on her mind: _fish_.

And since the plural of _fish_ was _fish_ , Ariel had 'one word' but many….um…well, _fish_ on her mind. She needed to summon her fishy friends and she needed to do it fast.

Her unofficial conference with King Arthur had confirmed Ariel's suspicions that she, Wendy, Peter, and Jim were doing a rotten job as guardians. True, they _were_ newbies and they _hadn't_ much experience working together but _GOSH_! Arthur had revised (and improved) their scouting plan in three seconds!

Moreover, Arthur's council had made horrifying sense! Peter was a cocky peacock: he _shouldn't_ have been sent to scout the Vikings! Jim was a time bomb with daddy issues: he _shouldn't_ have been sent to scout Sinbad! And sure Wendy was sensible, but _realistically_ how could she stop Jim? The chic weighed maybe 100 pounds wet! Ariel should have taken jurisdiction over the sea. Wendy would have served better in the Otherland, where caution was needed.

Lamentingly, Ariel twirled her trident. _Gosh_ again! They were _lousy_ guardians! They were useless as a bunch of guppies (no offense Flounder).

It was a sobering and aggravating journey home for Ariel Triton. But luckily, of all the guardians, Ariel was the most intuitive thinker. Her emotions were turbulent, but she _listened_ and _studied_ each one. Rather than disconnect with her feelings, she _felt_ them. Completely.

Then, when all feelings were felt (and this was the magic of Ariel) she _tackled_ her negative emotions. She dissected each one until she understood _how_ to the turn the negatives into positives.

And she did. Ariel found a positive solution.

Her solution: _fish_.

(Just hold on. The explanation is coming!)

Ariel reasoned: She, Wendy, Peter, and Jim might be terrible guardians, but they could _learn_ from this mistake! They could learn and _then_ they rectify – starting with the armada of fish that Ariel was planning to attack Sinbad's ship.

While Marlin, Dori, Nemo, Ray, Bruce, Anchor, and Chum investigated _The Princess_ , Ariel would relay King Arthur's concerns to Wendy and Jim. Via her fishy armada, Ariel would demonstrate her clout as Seaworld guardian so Jim and Wendy would be more familiar with her powers. Therefore, the next time a problem arose they would _all_ be more prepared.

 _Bam. That happened (or will happen). Problem solved_. They just needed to learn about each other. That was all. And that was easy.

Light-hearted, Ariel skipped into her seaside mansion and into the main foyer. Planning a quick wardrobe change and utility supply (she would need her snorkel), she sprinted up the grand staircase.

She stopped. Someone was waiting for her.

Eric.

Ariel cringed, but for several reasons. For one, Eric's nose, cheekbone, and left eye were grotesquely bruised (courtesy of Jim Hawkins). As she surveyed the damage, Ariel felt her own face tingle.

For another, Ariel _also_ cringed because she _did not_ care to visit with Eric. Jim hadn't divulged, but Ariel was _certain_ that Eric had instigated their fist-fight.

 _Puh._ Ariel snuffed as Eric descended the stairs. _Stupid Eric – didn't he know Jim fought dirty_? _Jim was an animal. Gosh he grew up in The Docks – the cutthroat division of Fantasia_! _Jim had escaped the fight with a few scraped knuckles. Maybe_. _Eric looked like a hammerhead had chewed his face. Ew_.

"Ariel." Attempting to smile, Eric winced against his injuries. Nevertheless, he regally adjusted his castings and continued. "I'm glad you're here. No one was home . So I let myself in."

Ariel rolled her eyes. _Way to state the obvious Eric. And THAT'S why they made you captain. Bravo._

"I've been discharged from the hospital." Eric touched his nose guard. "Broken nose and a crack in my maxillary sinus – the cheek area. No surgery was needed, but it will take six to eight weeks to heal."

Ariel smirked. _Go Jim._

"Well." Eric strode several paces left, placing Ariel within his right eye. "You don't seem concerned as I thought you would be. However, since your father assures me that Hawkins is forbidden to see you…"

Suddenly, Eric veered, reaching for her. "I am willing to forgive."

Ariel swerved. Dropping her beach bag, she slapped her trident into the marble floor, dissecting the space between her and Eric. Electricity skittered over the dark tiles and gleamed against Eric's boots.

Eric halted.

"I don't think…" he began, sidestepping around the trident. "You understand how _blessed_ you are, Ariel. _Yes_ , you are beautiful. _Yes_ , you have position. But… it is not _any_ man that would love a mute woman. It is not _any_ man that would love a woman that could not reply ' _I love_ you' back. Well, for desperate men, _yes_. For worthless scum as Hawkins, _yes_. But never a man…such as I. A man…"

Fluidly, Eric withdrew a diamond ring from his breast pocket.

"…with honorable intentions." he finished, extending the glittering ring over her trident. "Ariel Triton. Be my wife."

Ariel stared. Stretched between fury, resentment, and total bewilderment she just stood, waiting for the moment to make sense. Somehow Eric had navigated his way through personal insults without her interrupting, and ended with a… _proposal_?

Disoriented, Ariel gaped at the ring. She tried, but couldn't make out the diamond or band; the ring was just a meaningless sparkle… a vindictive offer …an empty promise of marriage.

A vendetta. Against Jim.

The tidal wave hit before Ariel could stop it. Dropping her trident, she hit the ring from Eric's hand. As the trident clattered and sparked, Ariel threw a finger after the ring and out the door.

 _Go!_ she furiously mouthed. _Get out!_

Eric did not move.

"Sorry?" he said, tapping an ear. "Sorry. Didn't hear. Was that, _Yes Eric, of course I will marry you_?"

Ariel stooped but Eric kicked her trident. The golden teeth crackled as it spun across the marble floor. Ariel ran after it, but Eric intercepted, grabbing her wrists.

"Was that, _Yes Eric_ – " He continued, driving her into the banister. " _Yes Eric I want to live happily ever after with a man that can care for me when I leave Fantasia? Not a man that will disappear behind the stars. Not a man that I may never see again_. Was that what you said, Ariel? Was that it?"

Ariel pushed. Eric yanked, nearly ripping off her shoulders. Leaning, he whispered into her mouth.

"You reject my proposal? Alright. I am a gentleman. I will leave peacefully. I can have any woman, but stupid me, I chose you. But Ariel, answer one more question for me…"

Eric's voice burned. " _Has Hawkins proposed_?"

He waited. Her expression answered.

"So no." Gently, Eric released. With a smart tug on his naval uniform, he spoke caustically into Ariel's silence. "So you're the trash of the trash? Is that what you want Ariel? _Is that what you want_? You know Hawkins' background. You know his breed. Hawkins is a leech. Do you really believe he will _propose_? No. It seems to me, that you have competition Ariel. You are just the second course, the dessert. After all… "

Eric sharpened his tone. And when he spoke, each word stung. " _Hawkins has Wendy_. Don't pretend you're not concerned. You've seen the way they interact. Best friends? No. A man's _wife_ is his _best friend._ Not…his _mistress_ – "

Ariel seized Eric and clawed. She screamed soundlessly until her throat was raw.

But Eric grinned.

"Speak up!" he taunted, flinging Ariel aside. "Speak up little mermaid I can't hear you! Are you saying I'm right, that Hawkins' is better dead? That he's playing you, with Wendy on the side? Or are you accepting my offer to love, and honor, and cherish, and promise to be faithful as man and wife – "

" _That – is –_ _enough_."

Admiral Triton appeared so suddenly he could have risen from the floor. Sweeping Ariel behind him with one hand, he shoved Eric ahead with the other.

"Out. _Now_."

"Admiral – " Eric stumbled over the diamond ring, still discarded on the floor. "Admiral I was only – "

"I know what you _only_ doing." Growling like a shark, Admiral Triton thrust Eric outside. "And without my consent? _Really_ – I expect more of my officers. But from my highest ranking captain, I shall _thus forth_ expect _less_."

Resoundingly, Admiral Triton shut the door. Immediately thereafter he addressed Sebastian on his shoulder.

"Petty Officer Sebastian. Make sure he leaves. I want him out of sight. Put him on a ship and see to it he stays there."

"Aye aye, Sir!" Saluting, Sebastian scuttled under the door. "I'll put dat boy in his place, Sir!"

"For the time being, good enough. Report back in oh-two-hundred hours. Dismissed."

Sebastian departed, shell clicking with a second salute.

Curtly, Admiral Triton turned. He paused, noticing Eric's diamond ring against his toe. Gruffly, he retrieved the ring.

Then he looked up. He saw Ariel.

And the storm cleared from his blue eyes.

Ariel was crying. She was silent, so he could not hear. And her face was knotted inside her arms, so he could not see. But inside that little clump, huddled on the bottom step, was his broken-hearted baby girl, crying because she hadn't the power to stop.

Admiral Triton crossed over. He knelt. And like a rock in stormy seas, he pulled Ariel inside his protective embrace.

"I'm here." Admiral Triton soothed as Ariel cried into his chest. Calmly, he rubbed her hair. "I am here. It's alright."

Ariel buried into his beard. Her shoulders jerked uncontrollably. She was sobbing. _Sobbing_.

Tormented, Admiral Triton pressed a cheek into Ariel. Twenty-one years ago, he made a promise to Ariel, as he did all of his daughters the day they were born. He promised to love and protect. But when Athena, his _dear wife_ passed… the promise became dearer than life itself. Admiral Triton _vowed_ on Athena's soul to protect their children.

But like soap, the harder he squeezed, the faster his daughters slipped away. Especially Ariel. Ariel, the brightest. Ariel, the fearless. Ariel, the spitting image of her mother.

Ariel, the one that reached out of the sea and into the stars.

Admiral Triton sighed into Ariel's hair. Painstakingly allowing her to withdraw, he wished the embrace could be held forever. It was the only way to keep his daughter safe – cradled inside his arms, just like the day she was born.

"Captain Eric spoke in anger, Ariel." Admiral Triton placed his fingertips below her chin. Lifting a thumb, he smoothed a stray tear. "Envy follows beauty. His slurs were not directed towards you. You are a startling young lady ; and a prize to be fought, and won for any _worthy_ man."

Ariel flinched at his last descriptor. _Worthy_. _A worthy man_. Reading her thoughts and detecting bitterness, Admiral Triton rest the diamond ring aside Ariel's trident.

"Captain Eric's conduct was shameful. Punishable. Although I do not consider him worthy of you… Ariel... I consider Hawkins less."

Ariel staggered back. Edging from her father, she angrily mouthed.

"Captain Eric spoke harshly – " Admiral Triton said, raising a hand to stay Ariel's protest. "But truthfully. Ariel, Hawkins is _common_. He is the son of a scoundrel. And his… _relations_ with Miss Darling – "

 _Daddy!_ Ariel shook her head. _Daddy stop!_

"Ariel." Firmly, Admiral Triton took her hands. "Lust, exploit – it's in his blood. Jim Hawkins may be a guardian. But he is bred of the worthless, wretched, scum of – "

 _Daddy!_ Ariel sobbed. _Daddy I LOVE HIM!_

The trident erupted. As electricity hissed to the ceiling, the storm returned to Admiral Triton's eyes.

Whether or not he read her lips, Admiral Triton understood Ariel's plea.

"Ariel…" he breathed. "Have you lost your senses? _No_. I _forbid_ it. And what's more… the Wishing Star will never let it be."

Ariel stared.

And she _almost_ told him.

She almost revealed her secret wish, the _risk_ that she and Jim Hawkins had _already_ undertaken.

But Ariel's secret was saved by a small knock on the door.

* * *

 **...**

 **Big4girl poem:**

 _ **Stupid. Dumb. Ugly. Idiot. I am not giving in to it! Jim is mine and I am his. All of it was lies that I forbid. Jim loves me and I love him. The very thought makes me grin. I almost spilled it, the secret kept so long, but that knock on the door kept me from the wrong.**_

 **...**

* * *

 **sultal's note:**

 **victory.x - t** **hank you, that means a lot. I'm way flattered.**

 **And yes – I wanted to take my time with the last chapter. Wendy is SUCH a deep character. I think 2 of Wendy's strongest traits (which are often overshadowed by her 'properness/girly-ness') are :**

 **(1) her conviction, and (2) her faith. She believes without seeing (i.e. Peter Pan), and she is EXTREMELY principled. THAT is rare.**

 **I'm not a huge fan of the _Disney_ _Peter Pan_ movie BUT, I REALLY LIKE that part where Wendy actually _stands up_ to Peter (even though she has a crush) – _She_ decides to return home, despite Peter's demand that the Darlings stay (which is actually kind of horrifying if you think about it). I wish Disney had delved more into that confrontation – Peter just kinda sluffed her off, but I think his pride MUST have been a little bent. **

**Wendy's conviction shines elsewhere as well. Obviously she also says "No way Captain Hook!" where I would be like "Free tattoo? Sure, sounds fair. Sign me up."**

 **I also like that Wendy is such a lady. She's not _girly_ per say – she's a lady, which I wanted to explore more in this story. Being a lady is not being "preppy" or "girly." Being a lady involves "having class" and "self control." It's an old idea, one that I would identify with my grandmother, and it involves having  self-control (such as modesty), which in story Wendy is struggling with ( _vis a vi_ Peter Pan the two headed bull).**

 **However, like _any_ good character, Wendy is not perfect. She DOES (in the Disney movie) slip with her emotions when they are strong (extreme happiness when she tries to kiss Peter, lots of talking when she is nervous, sudden snaps of temper, jealousy, even aggression when she's pushed too far… just like any normal girl). But Wendy DOES try to control her emotions. You can see her in the Disney movie just clasping her hands, and _almost_ hear her thinking " _keep it together girl_ …". **

**WOWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW.**

 **RANT sultal RANT.**

 **(Sorry, I love doing character studies! I literally could do this for every guardian. Too much fun to get inside their heads – although I imagine Headmaster Mickey would find that annoying _lol wink wink_ …)**

 **In short: Yes, Wen is a very cool, _dual-personality_ , often misunderstood character out there is Disney. So thank you for the mention.**


	66. Chapter 66: Big Sister

**Chapter 66: Big Sister**

"Miss Darling."

Admiral Triton's greeting was friendly as a frostbite.

"Admiral." Wendy replied. Leaning backwards she meekly met the admiral's glare. "Good afternoon. I know this is unexpected but – "

"Your call is unexpected _and_ untimely." Admiral Triton interrupted. "State your business so we may be social and part."

Wendy's meekness disappeared. Apparently politeness was not fashionable in the Triton household this year.

"I need to speak with Ariel." Wendy lifted her chin, but it was difficult to sound authoritative to AdmiralTriton, especially when he was glowering like a killer whale. "It's important. Has she returned from King Arthur's castle?"

Admiral Triton lifted a bushy brow. "This is news. I was not aware my daughter had held conference with His Majesty."

"Yes." Wendy said. "Guardian matters."

"I see." Admiral Triton's lip curled. "I trust _one_ guardian was excluded in this charade? Per my orders?"

Wendy stiffened. "You mean Jim."

"You remember. Good, feel free to remind him – Hawkins stays away from my daughter. He and Ariel are through."

Indignation overrode Wendy's timidity. Taking a leaf from Sarah Hawkins' book, she challenged Admiral Triton's offence.

"Admiral, I _realize_ you have concerns, but your conduct against my family has been _most_ unattractive. You've abused your position to insult my brother and invade my household _all because_ of an outdated grudge. _Unprofessional_ and _disgraceful_. Extremely."

Needless to say Admiral Triton was surprised. Wendy continued before he could recover.

"Jim has his moments, certainly. But he is a kind, protective, steadfast man, and you can take my word, he loves Ariel more than – "

"My regard for you _Miss_ Darling – " Admiral Triton interjected, regaining his composure. "Has fallen in the past two days. I have little humor, and I suggest you do not test it further. I would have hoped that _you_ of all people would see through Hawkins, but it appears you are blind as the rest."

" _I'm_ blind?" Angrily, Wendy blurted. "You've a nasty chip on your shoulder! Jim is – "

"- the son of a man who is responsible for my wife's death!" Admiral Triton snarled, repelling Wendy with his rage. "Like father like son, Hawkins is _blessed_ I don't shoot him on sight! I see Sinbad in his face and with his every transgression! You think it _unfair_ that I shield my daughter against such a _kind, protective, steadfast_ man? Think again, Miss Darling. Jim Hawkins is a criminal by virtue of his sire. His bloodline is capable of lust, deceit, brash and greed – "

Ariel ducked under Admiral Triton's arm, ending his rant. Ignoring her father, she pulled Wendy over the threshold, across the foyer, and to the stairs. As Admiral Triton objected, Ariel paused briefly at the base of the stairwell. Spitefully aiming her trident, she blasted a tiny diamond ring before plowing to her bedroom.

"A ring?" Calming from her confrontation with Admiral Triton, Wendy followed Ariel to her bedroom corner. "Ariel was that - ?"

Ariel spun. Wendy staggered backwards as she pointed her trident and mouthed furiously.

"Wait – Ariel!" Wendy stumbled, startled by Ariel's aggression. "Ariel please slow down I can't read your lips! What's wrong? What did I – "

Smoke curled from Ariel's ears. Exasperated, she threw her trident. As the trident crackled, she fished her whiteboard from a pile of clothes, scribbled a message and thrust it at Wendy.

Wendy read. Her eyes popped.

" _Do I_ _want_ _Jim_?" Disgusted, Wendy recoiled. "Ew! Ariel?! _No_! Ariel, we've discussed this! Six years ago! _Why_ would you even ask me that _now_?!"

Ariel snatched the whiteboard. She wrote feverishly as Wendy tried to alleviate.

"Ariel, is this because of last night? I'm _sorry_ I didn't know you were there, and I'm _sorry_ I was a little taken aback but – "

Ariel flipped the whiteboard. Cutting her apology short, Wendy read the new message – it was difficult, Ariel's penmanship was sloppy with anger.

"Your father and Eric said – they _said_ _that_?" Wendy internally died of horror. "How could they _say_ that? How could they even _think_ that? No, no, NO! Ariel I promise you we're not – "

She wrangled for a 'political' word. " _Romantic_. We're not romantic. Not at all! Ariel Jim _loves_ you! He told me so, and I know you love him! Whatever you do together is _your_ business and I'm _happy_ for you both! Don't you see? Don't you understand?"

Ariel ground her marker. Purple ink blotted her thumb. She was slowly resigning to Wendy's explanation, but was still unconvinced.

"Ariel." Wendy smoothed her hair. Her forehead was hot. "I _don't_ love Jim that way, and I _know_ he feels the same about me. Think about it - if we felt romantically at all, one of us would have said something by now."

Ariel rolled her eyes. _Yeah._ ' _Modesty' and 'Bite-Me' would have said something by now. Sure_.

"Ariel." Wendy pleaded. " _Please_. Listen. I love _Peter_. And I – w—want him. Why else would I be here?"

Confused, Ariel squint. _What?_ She drew a question mark lest her confusion be mistaken for anger. _What? Question mark?_

"I –" Wendy blushed. She had tumbled into the fetid topic, there was no backing out. "Ariel I need your help. Please don't think less of me. But I wanted to give Peter – like what you and Jim – and I wanted it to be perfect."

Ariel blinked. She was blank.

Miserably, Wendy crossed two fingers. Mimicking the sign Ariel had used in _Tony's Restaurant ,_ she twisted her fingers back and forth.

"I'm just…" Wendy whispered, lowering her hand. "Not certain how."

Ariel gawked. Her mouth dropped to the bottom of the sea.

It was rude, but Wendy couldn't stand the silence. "Oh please. Say _something_."

An astounded smile later, the girls were hugging. Ariel was apologetic, but Wendy more so for disclosing her desires and asking for Ariel's help. She felt so silly. She felt like such a silly little girl.

But Ariel was ecstatic. First, Jim was off the hook (big deep breath)! Second, Wendy _needed_ her. Ariel was the baby of her family – she _always_ wanted a little sister. Every year for Christmas in fact, Ariel had requested that Santa Clause bring her one. Ariel loved the idea of teaching a little girl how to be a strong, beautiful woman – and Wendy, although they were the same age, needed coaching. Ariel was flattered and _ridiculously_ excited.

But she was also alarmed.

 **Was this Peter's idea?** Ariel handed Wendy her whiteboard message. Sitting on the bed beside her, she also passed a cushy-toy-lobster. _Stuffed-animals: good for the soul_.

As Wendy read the first line, Ariel wrote another.

 **Did Peter talk you into this?**

Wendy hugged the stuffed-lobster. "No. We only planned to have dinner tonight. But I know he wants to. Um, that is…I know he wants to...well...make...love."

Ariel scoffed. _No brainer._ She was _shocked_ that Peter had survived this long _without_ making love, but she refrained from mentioning. Still, Peter deserved credit – it must have been a marathon.

 **Okay.** Relieved, Ariel wrote. **Good. So he's not forcing you**. **If he was, I would skewer him with my trident lol. NEVER let a guy force you into sex. That's evil. K?**

Wendy bit her lip. "I know." she said, although she sounded unsure. "This is my idea."

 **Sure?**

"Yes."

 **SURE?**

"Ariel." Wendy squeezed the stuffed-lobster. "Please don't try to change my mind. We're leaving tomorrow, and I may never see Peter again. I love him and… this is what he wants. So I do too. And… it has to be perfect."

Wryly, Ariel glanced. She could have written a rebuttal-essay on THAT justification, the thesis being something akin to ' _It Doesn't Matter What HE Wants –You're The Girl, YOU Call the Shots_.'

However, Wendy was right; the little time she had with Peter was precious. Their time in Fantasia was ticking away. Fast.

Furthermore, it would be _hypocritical_ for Ariel to refuse. Six years ago, she faced Wendy's dilemma and made the exact same decision: she made love with Jim.

Admittedly Wendy's decision was complicated by Peter's reputation and Jim's stubbornness, but Ariel was sympathetic. And, Wendy was adamant. All Ariel could do was trust Wendy's certitude and teach her to be safe…

… and sexy.

Ariel prepped her marker. _Gosh. Being a big sister was tough_!

 **First** Ariel wrote **U need to actually say SEX. If ur afraid to say it, you'll be toooo uptight with Peter. U need to be loose, natural. Right now ur too tense! So go ahead. Say SEX.**

Wendy's blush deepened. She looked at Ariel, the whiteboard, Ariel, then the whiteboard again.

Inaudibly she spoke. Ariel assumed Wendy had said 'sex' : she'd been too soft to hear but was burning like a forest fire.

Ariel grinned. **I'm the one that can't talk, remember?** **Little louder**.

Wendy placed the stuffed-lobster on the bed. As she turned, her cheeks glowed lobster red. "Sex."

Ariel clapped. Encouragingly, she wrote. **Step one! Nice job! You embarrassed?**

"Extremely." Wendy said.

 **Good!** Ariel whooshed her arms. **Get it all out now!** **Okay – x10! Sex, sex, sex, sex, sex, sex, sex, sex, sex, sexxxxxxxx -**

Wendy smiled as Ariel squiggled her marker off the whiteboard and into the sheets. Dutifully she repeated ' _sex_ ' ten times. Then twenty. Then too many to count. And miraculously Ariel's method worked – with every repetition, Wendy felt less uncomfortable.

 **Okay. Now the fun stuff.** Ariel drew an evil smiley face over her next word: **Foreplay**.

Wendy could infer. "Before sex?"

 **Hey!** Ariel raised a high five. **See! U said it!**

Weakly, Wendy accepted. "Foreplay. It's…like kissing?"

Ariel scrunched her nose. She wagged a hand. _Sorta._

After a moment's contemplation (and a wicked, reminiscing smile), she explained on the whiteboard.

 **Foreplay is like revving his engine before he combusts**.

"Oh – my." Wendy looked away. Ariel's imagery was full-bodied _and_ full-flavored. "I can't do that."

 **YES!** Ariel tapped her marker, redirecting Wendy to the whiteboard. **YES U CAN!** **It's SO much fun! Plus – you already kinda do it!**

"I do?" Wendy exclaimed. "When?"

Ariel poked Wendy's leg. Writing, she smirked. **Peter said something about a garter?**

Wendy slapped both hands over her jeans. "He _told_ you about that? _Ugh_! No reservations, I can't believe him! Ariel – that was a mistake. That was not foreplay."

Soundlessly laughing, Ariel returned to her whiteboard. **It turned Peter on – it was foreplay. Foreplay is how u excite a guy, feed his desire. It can be anything – the way u look, touch, undress, kiss, tease, talk, move, smell ANYTHING! It's FUN! Jim likes when I kiss and SLLLLLOWLY work my hands towards**

"I – " Wendy covered the board. "— _do not_ need to know that. And I don't think I can do this. Besides, will Peter even _let_ me? Don't you think he'll just take over – ?"

 **NO!** Ariel filled the whiteboard. Erasing the word, she wrote it again. **NO! NO! NO! Wendy YOU need to dominate passionately! DO NOT sit back and let Peter take over!**

"But I've never – and he has – "

 **EXACTLY!** Ariel persisted, marker flying **. Wendy I PROMISE Peter has been thinking about sex! But you've withheld! THAT IS HUGE. THINK of the POWER u have right now**! **Nobody's first time is perfect – but u can reallllllllllllly turn Peter into a PUDDLE with FOREPLAY! Tease him! Taunt him! Trust me – K?**

"Alright." Still doubtful that Peter would let her get far, Wendy was nevertheless relieved that she could have _some_ control. "How do I do it? What do I do?"

Ariel twirled her hair, thinking. Finally, she decided.

 **Peter is visual. He likes pretty things, and he loves surprises. So… I think you should undress for him. VERRRRRRRRRRY SLLLLLLLOWWWWWWLY. It'll drive him insane. In a good way.**

Wendy remembered the previous night, of Peter unzipping her dress.

"What if he tries to help?"

Ariel nodded. **Then you** **undress him. That's what Jim and I do – but I think Peter will watch. He likes to be entertained. Jim likes to interact.**

Wendy closed her eyes. "Again…too many details."

 **Sorry.** Ariel smiled. **UR bro** **is out of this world.**

"Ariel." Wendy begged. " _Please_. I _eat_ across from him."

Happily, Ariel shrugged. Still daydreaming, she asked what Wendy was planning to wear.

"I brought this." Wendy unfurled the tea-length dress from her backpack. Cringing, she smoothed the wrinkles. "Goodness. I left in a rush. Do you think this will work?"

Ariel considered. **Gosh it's gorgeous! But where is ur Underworld outfit? That had more layers, and lots of ribbons on the corset. It would take longer to undress = more suspense. Could u wear that?**

Wendy made a face. "I'd rather not. It's so old, and it probably smells like dragon fire. Moreover….I don't want to go back home. Sarah and Jim should be back by now."

Understandably, Ariel nodded.

 **Garter?** she wrote.

"Home." Wendy replied. "I didn't even think to bring it. _Should_ I go back?"

Ariel drummed the whiteboard. Then, standing, she wrote: **Nope.** **Negligee**. **U can wear it underneath. That will add a layer. Hold on.**

Ariel rummaged through her sisters' drawers, occasionally glancing at Wendy for reference. Snapping her fingers for Wendy's attention, she flapped a blue negligée from Aquata's dresser.

 _Like it?_

"It's…" Unconsciously, Wendy drew a knee to her chest. " _Transparent_."

Ariel raised her eyebrows. _So no?_

Wendy verified. "No. It's lovely but – no. Too transparent."

Ariel replaced the negligée. Crossing to Andrina's closet, she _did not_ remind Wendy that _'totally transparent'_ was the goal. _Oh well._

Selecting a black net from Andrina's lingerie, Ariel untangled, then displayed it to Wendy.

Wendy was a little appalled. The garment looked like a spider-web. "Is that…clothing?"

Helpfully, Ariel modeled.

"Oh my – _No_." Wendy absolutely refused. "I could never – no. That leaves _much_ too little to the imagination."

Again, Ariel _did not_ remind Wendy that Peter's imagination needed no prompting. Cheerfully, she continued the hunt.

In the end, Wendy consented to a delicate pink slip. It was gossamer, hemmed with lace, and still had the price tag (which Wendy found comforting). The negligée was Ariel's, but she insisted Wendy keep it – pink clashed with her hair.

An aftermath of explanations, diagrams, embarrassing moments (for Wendy), and reassurances (from Ariel) pulled the afternoon into evening. There were bumps and kinks, but everything passed smoothly…

…until Ariel offered Wendy _protection_ , and Wendy refused.

"No." she said, pushing the contraceptive at Ariel. "Peter will think I'm silly. He'll – "

Ariel's trident sparkled with anger. Furiously, Ariel lectured on birth control and safe sex until she was blue in the face (and Wendy was red). They quarreled, but Ariel won the argument with four capitalized words:

 **I WILL TELL JIM**

" _Fine_." Voice breaking, Wendy stuffed the contraceptive into her backpack. "But Peter is _going_ to _make fun_ of me. He's had _so_ many others and – and he – "

Wendy held her head. Exhausted. She was exhausted.

And terrified.

Wretchedly, Wendy sighed.

"Ariel…was Jim your first?"

Ariel gazed, understanding Wendy's distress. In response, she nodded.

Wendy traced the pink negligée. The satin shimmered under her hand.

"Were you nervous?"

Truthfully, Ariel shook her head. _No. It was right._ As Ariel silently answered, Wendy remembered Jim's defense of their first love. His response had been similar. He had said: _It felt strange that we hadn't before._

Wendy didn't want to – but she had to ask.

"Is it wrong that I'm scared?"

Ariel thought it was. But she did not reply. Because the sadness in Wendy's voice told Ariel that Wendy already knew the answer. So scooting close, she wrapped an arm around her 'little sister' and hugged.

Again, Wendy sighed.

"Thank you Ariel."

Ariel rubbed. _You are so so welcome_.

Wendy stared into the setting sun, a pink ball balanced over the silver sea.

"You know." she said. "I use to worry about Jim. I use to worry that he'd run away from everyone, bitter and alone. Ariel…I'm _so_ glad he's found you."

Below their feet, the trident glittered. But this time the sparkles were turquoise – Ariel was happy. Very happy.

Ariel offered Wendy a hand. Wendy accepted.

"I hope Jim proposes tonight." she whispered. "But if he doesn't, please _do_ tell him to hurry up."

Wistfully, Ariel smiled. She squeezed Wendy's hand.

"And _please_." Wendy squeezed back. " _Don't_ tell Jim."

Ariel mouthed. And even Wendy could read her lips.

 _Duh._

They smiled. Laughed.

And together, they watched the sunset.

* * *

 **...**

 **Big4girl poem:**

 _ **Oh dear, Oh dear, here I go. This is going to be awkward, but I want to move forward, and there's no going back. This is a fear I've been waiting to attack. So am I ready? The truth is I don't know. But this is the time that I start to grow.**_

 **...**

* * *

 **sultal's note:**

 **"guest" - haha that IS ironic! It's curious how different personalities like or dislike the same character! BUT, I have noticed that of the guardians, I have the hardest time selling Peter and Wendy. And it is ALSO interesting that their characters were written in the 1950s, when expectations were different for males and females ,vs Ariel and Jim who are a closer to present time. People generally are chill with Ariel and Jim, but either like or dislike Peter/Wendy, there's rarely an in-between (for example, I know that if I met Peter, I would have a hard time stomaching him - I'd probably hand Jim the grenade to throw).**

 **But, the COOL part as a writer, is that I have to look for the goods and bads in each character and write it objectively as possible. For Peter I'm still trying ;P and it's an on going battle. So I'm pumped you found Wen's characterization accurate at least ! :)**

 **And YAHHS, Sinbad = swoon. He is def a crowd pleaser, and for good reason! On the surface he is a LOT like Flynn Rider, but he gets serious and tough (like Jim), which I REALLY like about his character. And COME ON - the guy was voiced by BRAD PITT. Again...MAJOR SWOON. He's a babe ;)**

 **Oh, and yes - so why Sinbad got mad that Wendy is Jim's sister...Sinbad will address this later, but remember, he does not know that Wendy is adopted. So...if Wendy is Jim's sister, then that would make Wendy Sarah's daughter... which means that Sarah would have had to (in Sinbad's mind)...dot...dot...dot...He's probably wondering who the father is ;P**


	67. Chapter 67: Out Of My League

**Chapter 67: Out Of My League**

Peter DID NOT like being told what to do. He DID NOT like orders. At all. And this 'Viking reconnaissance mission' what a big, fat, stinking order.

Peter's repugnance for orders was a quality shared closely with Ariel, to an extent with Jim, and hardly with Wendy. Ironically however, Wendy usually gave the orders (after becoming frustrated with their 'bickering'), which Peter found himself complying to more and more…

It was irritating but bearable. Wendy was practical, her decisions were typically sound, and it was _such_ a thrill to see her mad. God, she was so cute riled-up. That was another distinct quality of Peter – he _relished_ a good fight. He _enjoyed_ getting under people's skin.

For instance, Jim.

 _Jim._

Positioning his head aerodynamically in line with his body, Peter skimmed the treetops. The leafy crowns whisked undertow as he smoldered. His glower almost set the canopy aflame.

Peter was not an idiot. He knew : this reconnaissance mission was _Jim's_ idea. Sure Wendy and Ariel had finalized the plan, but Jim had been most adamant. And Peter knew why – Jim was keeping him away from Wendy.

"Rattail." Peter closed his fists. He clenched, pretending to suffocate Jim. Then, in an _uncannily_ accuratevoice-impersonation, he mocked Wendy's plea. " _Peetah - I think you and Jim should be friends._ HA! Wendy – I think you and _Jim_ should detach at the hip! Picka man, pick the best, and the best is me! Rattail is so out of your…your league."

Peter sagged, suddenly weighted by an unhappy thought.

 _Out of her league huh? Well so are you Peter. So are you._

Peter frowned. "Shut up." he told himself. Ankles pumping, he tried to fly faster. But he couldn't – his thoughts were too heavy to fly.

Wendy was too good for him. She was _too good_ for The One and Only Pan. Whether she believed it was uncertain, but her subconscious behavior was indicative. Wendy had ignored him as a younger girl; she had hesitantly accepted his proposal six years ago; she _currently_ avoided public displays of affection; she wouldn't let him touch her; and she clung to Jim.

Broodingly, Peter drifted through the trees. Yes, he knew Wendy was demure (and he adored that), but it _hurt_ that she didn't trust him to…well, misbehave. Wendy was buttoned-up (both sexually and _emotionally_ ). Apart from last night, she maintained her composure around Peter, while _Jim_ got the tears, heartache, breakdowns, vulnerability, intimacy, and whatever the _Hell else_ they were doing in that house –

Peter stopped. Hovering midair, he stopped dead.

 _Wendy and Jim LIVED together. What…what WERE they doing when he…or Ariel… weren't there? Why WAS Jim so protective? Why DID Wendy cling?_

Again, the unhappy thought poked Peter's brain.

 _Out of your league._

And a new, horrifying, unhappy thought followed.

 _Best friends. With benefits._

"Nuh uh." Peter spoke loudly, but a hand gravitated to his dagger. " _No way_. She wouldn't. Not with _him_. Not...oh my god." Peter almost dropped. "Wendy – !"

He turned. Out of his mind with anger, he turned back for Fantasia.

But then, he flew into four Vikings. And four dragons.

* * *

… **... … …..**

* * *

"EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!"

Snoutlout, Fishlegs, Ruffnut and Tuffnut squealed.

Yep. Squealed. Like piglets.

….pride of the Vikings.

"Demon elf!" Batting the red-haired attacker, Snoutlout scampered behind Hookfang (his utterly confused dragon). "Fagnster – fire boy, fire! Fire! It's a demon elf!"

"Demon elf?" Elated, the twins clunked helmets. Their two-headed dragon, Barf and Belch, did the same. "Cool! Blech! Barf! Attack! Spew! It's a demon elf!"

"Eep! Not quite!" Fishlegs shielded Meatlug (his startled gronckle) from the red-haired attacker. "It's got elfin features and pointed ears! Guys! It's a FERN GULLIAN!"

"A fern gullian?" Snoutlout shrieked.

"A fern gullian?" Ruffnut echoed.

"A fern gullian?YES! Wait no…" Tuffnut paused under Belch. "That's bad, right?"

"RIIIIIIIIIIIGHT!" Crowing like a rooster, the red-haired 'fern gullian' bolted into Tuffnut. Pinning the Viking, he flourished a dagger and dramatically proclaimed. "I am your worst nightmare! _Mwa ha ha haaaaa_! Behold the ONE, the ONLY -"

He drummed Tuffnut's helmet. "PETER PAN!"

"Peter Pan?" Tuffnutt looked cross-eyed at the dagger. Unexpectedly he thrust two thumbs up. "Alliteration. Cool I like it."

Peter grinned. "Thanks – " he said, flipping the butt of his dagger and knocking Tuffnut out cold. The Vikings cringed – that would leave a scar.

"Okay. Big bad Vikings – " Conversationally, Peter kicked Tuffnut's helmet and caught it midair. Tossing it lightly, he addressed the gathering. "So it's like this...I've got a dinner date with a pretty girl that _may_ be doing the nasties with my _mortal enemy_. I'm already late, and super irritated..."

Nonchalantly, Peter floated upwards. He smirked as the Vikings (and their dragons) blinked bewilderedly.

"I'd love to stay and chat," Peter continued, "But I'd just kick your butts anyway, _and_ my girlfriend is waiting – hopefully with an apron. So, I'll make this short, sweet, and dumb enough for you to understand…."

 _Plunk_. Peter donned Tuffnut's four-pronged-ox-horn helmet. "Are you guys planning to take Fantasia, or what?"

The Vikings (and their dragons) gawked.

"Did he…" Snoutlout tapped Hookfang for verification. "Did he just… _put on_ Tuff's helmet?"

Hookfang coated himself with kerosene flames. Peter's eyebrows lifted as fire bled between the dragon's teeth.

"Yeah." Snoutlout palmed a fist. "That's what I _thought_ , Fangster."

"He's wearing a Viking's helmet." Fishlegs whimpered, covering his own tiny winged cap. " _Nothing_ is more sacred, more holy, more hallowed to a Viking than his helmet."

"Ha – you mean this?" Peter rolled Tuffnut's helmet over his shoulders (not easy, considering the horns). "It smells like poop!"

"Wow." Ruffnut perked in surprise. "Tuff must've cleaned it."

"Ha!" Catching the helmet, Peter snuffed and spit. The Vikings (and their dragons) gasped as his loogie splattered the metal shell. " Bull's eye!"

Fishlegs nearly fainted. Ruffnut snickered (boogers were cool). Soutlout brandished a two ton hammer and proclaimed:

"VIKINGS! CHARRRRGE! KILL THE FERN GULLIAN!"

The Vikings thundered. The dragons boomed. Weapons waved. Fire flowed.

Peter grinned.

"Oh yeah." Replacing the helmet on his head and twirling the dagger in his hand, Peter waited for the Vikings to attack. "This is gonna be fun."

And it was fun. It was _ridiculously_ fun.

And _that_ was the magic of Peter Pan. Peter might have been conceited; he might have been arrogant ; and he might have been big headed...

But he was all those things for good reason:

Peter Pan was flawless in a fight. He made it look easy. More of an entertainer than a warrior, he danced through battles with one hand tied behind his back. His reactions were hot, his maneuverability was unbeatable, and his parries were prophetic – Peter read his opponents far into the future. He literally 'beat them to the punch.'

Yes – Peter was a fighter. He was _bewitching_.

And the Vikings were freaked.

"Get him! Hit him!"

"Kill him! Maim him!"

"Left, left, left, left, left!"

"Nooooo right, right, right, right, right!"

"Look up!"

"Look down!"

"Look all around!"

"Ya know – " Sidestepping, Peter watched Ruffnut's spear bonk Meatlug senseless. As Meatlug tumbled into Fishlegs, Peter grabbed the spear and spun it like a baton. "For a bunch of Vikings, you're all pretty sappy."

Ruffnut advanced with her two headed dragon. Missing a rider (Tuffnut – he was still unconscious), Belch and Barf stampeded Peter for two seconds before he knotted their necks around a tree.

"I mean I was expecting a challenge!" Peter continued, looping Ruffnut's pigtails into Belch and Barf's knot. As she hung, he somersaulted into the air. "But you guys couldn't beat up my girlfriend! And she's like the size of my pinkie! Take this guy for instance – "

Zipping upright, Peter back-flipped over Snoutlout's hammer.

"Strike one!" Peter whooped.

Snoutlout swung again. Peter jumped.

"Steee-rike two!"

Snoutlout aimed a blow that could rattle Thor, Almighty God of Thunder.

Daintily, Peter skipped as Snoutlout spun and missed.

"THRRRRRRREEEEE STRIKES – " On the decent, Peter headbutted Snoutlout with Tuffnut's helmet. As the Viking collapsed, he lunged like an umpire and yelled. "YOUUUUURRRRRRRR OUT! And the crowd goes wild – !"

Victoriously, Peter pummeled his chest and crowed.

"Bravo…" From his heap, Tuffnut groggily applauded. "Bravissimo…head hurting….awesome."

"Ha! Ha HA! Welcome to the big leagues boys! And..." Peter nodded graciously at Ruffnut. "And lady."

Ruffnut spluttered, giving him a taste of Viking ' _ladylikeness_.' (Lots of four letter words and spittle).

"Tut, tut, tut." Again, in a precise impersonation of Wendy, Peter flicked an imaginary pony-tail and huffed. " _Language_!"

Ruffnut exploded. Peter laughed.

"Okay." Gliding over the destruction, Peter counted. "One, little two, little three, little four, little Vikings. One, little two – little two headed dragon…only two? Where's the third?"

On cue, a growl answered. Peter felt the rumble inside his chest and the heat on his neck.

"Ahhh haaaaaa." Rotating, Peter turned into Hookfang's metallic snout. He smirked as the red dragon snarled. "You're the Rattail of the group, ain't cha big ugly guy?"

Hookfang snorted. Slithering around Snoutlout, the Monstrous Nightmare stalked, kerosene flames licking up his nostrils and nipping Peter's toes.

Peter lifted over the smoke. "Think you can catch me, dragon? Or you too chicken?"

Hookfang roared. _Chicken?_ _Chickens : the evil cousins of dragons!_ _No one called him chicken! No one!_

Wings slicing into the trees, Hookfang pounced.

Peter cackled like a demon and flew.

"Oh wait…." Blearily Tuffnutt groped for the sky. "We're…not…supposed….to fly up… Chief's orders…. Hiccup…might see…he's gonna flip...Chief Stoick's gonna kill someone...cool."

As the Vikings painfully regrouped, they realized: Hookfang _was_ disobeying orders. He wasn't supposed to fly over the forest.

And Hiccup _did_ see. So did Chief Stoick.

But Astrid saw first.

* * *

 **...**

 **Big4girl poem:**

 ** _Zip, Zoom, Boom! You missed me! You missed me! Zig Zag Zane! Haha I felt no pain! Naughty Naughty viking kids, hitting a guardian with skyworld bids! Peter Pan! Is the man! So why don't you catch him if you can!_**

 **...**


	68. Chapter 68: Kill The Fern Gullian

**Chapter 68: Kill The Fern Gullian**

 _Admittedly_ , Drago Bludvist was a brutal, bloodthirsty barbarian. _Admittedly_ , he was everything Vikings aspired to be.

But Astrid still _did not_ like Drago. _Neither_ did Chief Stoick.

However, both were pissed at Hiccup.

"Hiccup! You AGREE with HIM? ARRHHH! I swear by THOR I am going to STICK MY AXE UP YOUR SORRY –"

"Astrid. Sit." Gruffly, Stoick pulled Astrid beside him. As she landed, Stoick scowled at Hiccup. "My son is not chief _yet_. This army is made of _my_ Vikings, _my_ men. And Hiccup's council, however insistent, means _nothing_.

Hiccup winced. Shoulder to shoulder with Drago, he stared at the ground.

"But Dad," he murmured. "Maybe Drago has a point. If the Fantasians are expecting us, then a swift attack – "

"The Fantasians—!" Stoick thumped a knee (the earth shook). "Are _not_ Vikings! Ye all think we can just sweep Fantasia? Jus' like that? No! I've crossed with Fantasia's king, I've captured Fantasia's spies – _Fantasians are not Vikings_! They are cunning, deceptive, slippery."

"Stoick is right." Gobber added. Gobber was a one-handed-pegged-legged blacksmith. He was also Chief Stoick's 'personal advisor' (in Viking, that's code for ' _best friend_ ').

"We Vikings attacking Fantasia will be like hitting a puddle." Gobber beat his prosthetic sledgehammer to emphasize. "The water splashes, but molds back together. Fantasians are weaker than Vikings, yes – but they are _tricky_. Got all sorts of boobie traps and secret hideaways."

"So in answer to yer _foolish_ plan – NO. " Stoick glared at Hiccup before returning to Drago. "No. We are lying low, staying below the treetops. If the Fantasians see us coming they will make preparations, and Vikings are not clever enough to withstand a Fantasian attack. Fantasians are sneaky."

"Too sneaky." Gobber adjusted an iron tooth. "Even for dragons. And _especially_ for Vikings."

"Especially for _dumb_ Vikings." Astrid muttered scathingly.

Behind her, Toothless snorted.

Hiccup looked up. Astrid glanced back. _Curiously_ , Toothless had snubbed Hiccup ever since his decision to take Fantasia. _That_ was unprecedented: Toothless and Hiccup _never_ disagreed. Not usually, anyway. But as they crossed the Otherland, Toothless had completely abandoned Hiccup, preferring the company of Astrid and Stormfly (her dragon).

Astrid didn't complain, she assumed Toothless was irritated with Hiccup as she was – but it was just _weird_. Toothless almost seemed sentimental, like he didn't _want_ to attack Fantasia. _Weird. Very weird_.

Drago interrupted Astrid's thoughts.

"Fantasians are cowards." Drago grunted, taking Hiccup's shoulder. "Hiccup knows, Hiccup saw. Fantasians killed our king. They deserve the same – an eye for an eye. A tooth for a tooth."

"For those of us that have a tooth." Gobber said, attempting to lighten the mood. He shirked as Stoick glowered. "Or an eye…sorry Stoick."

"Fantasia has no dragons." Drago fingered his bullhook. The curved blade gleamed. "And I am the dragon master. By controlling Berk's dragons, I can – "

"Okay, first of all—" Astrid interrupted, " _Hiccup_ is the _dragon_ _master_! Even if he _is_ acting like a glump of yak barf!"

"Way to chew a compliment into an insult." Hiccup halfheartedly smiled.

"And second-!" Astrid shoved Stoick's warning hand. She lifted onto her knees as Stormfly (and Toothless) cheered.

"Your quote on quote ' _pla_ n' endangers our dragons! Dragons are intelligent, they have minds of their own! You can't just _control_ them and expect to win by brute force! Dragons react to the battle! If you try to control our dragons while we are riding, Fantasia will kill us!"

"Fantasia is sleeping, little Viking." Drago rose, matching Astrid's stance. Astrid glared, but Drago easily surpassed her by three feet. "When we raid tomorrow night, Fantasia will be surprised. They are not expecting our attack."

"Wait. _Not expecting_?" Suddenly, Hiccup straightened. "What do you mean the Fantasians are not expecting our attack?"

Drago turned. Dumbly (in Astrid's opinion) he repeated. "The Fantasians are not expecting our attack."

"But…" Suspiciously Hiccup peered. "But the Fantasians killed our king. Right?"

"Yes." Drago nodded. "And?"

"So…" Hiccup's gaze drifted to his father. "So if the Fantasians killed our king… _why_ wouldn't they be expecting a counter attack?"

Drago did not respond. But every Viking understood Hiccup's confusion: _attack and counter attack._ It was standard warfare, boiled down to the rawest form. _I punch you –You punch me._

Hiccup was right; if the Fantasians _were_ instigating war, why _wouldn't_ they expect retaliation?

"Unless…." Gobber shrugged. "Well…unless the Fantasians are dumb as sheep…?"

To the side, a sheep baaaaa-ed.

"Sorry Phil." Gobber apologized (sheep and Vikings – they traveled in groups). "Stoick. What do you think?"

Stoick regarded Drago. The ends of his beard curled with disgust.

"Listen close Drago." Stoick finally warned. "If ye want to take Fantasia with _our_ dragons…ye had better obey _my_ orders. The Hairy Hooligans are _my_ tribe. _Mine_."

Stoick rose. The Viking council followed.

"We continue on foot." Stoick said, striding callously past Hiccup. "All dragons glide low, under the canopy. And tomorrow night _I will decide_ if we take Fantasia… to avenge…"

Stoick waded icily into the Viking masses. "…our _king_."

As Stoick departed Drago curled a lip. Scars pinching his skin, he slouched into the forest.

"Well." Gobber clanked his fake hand. The sledgehammer swung as Hiccup and Astrid stood. "That went well, per Stoick's usual. Toothless, Stormfly –very nice, intimidating as always. Astrid ye were great – very Viking. _Hiccup_ …"

Pleasantly, Gobber plunked after Stoick. "…keep trying."

"Yeah!" Astrid snarled. "Keep trying Hiccup! Keep trying to mess up _everything_ and get our dragons killed, because so far you're doing a great job – !"

"Astrid." Hiccup moved towards Toothless. He sighed heavily as the dragon swerved haughtily out of reach. "Astrid. I _really_ need your support on this one."

"Oh!" Mockingly, Astrid clutched her chest. "Oh _sure_ Hiccup, why didn't you say so? Geeze Stormfly, _let's think_."

Hiccup glowered as they pretended to ' _think_.'

"Sarcasm." he muttered. "Mature. Thanks Astrid."

"Well how can you expect me to be okay with this!?" Angrily, Astrid spiraled her arms. "Look around Hiccup! Just look!"

Hiccup looked. He cringed.

"Pathetic." Astrid nudged with her axe. "Totally pathetic."

Hiccup agreed. It _was_ pathetic. The Hairy Hooligans were sadly prepared for battle. True, each Viking was fortified with bullet-proof Kevlar, fire retardant camo, and good old fashion sword-helmet-and-shield…but they were naked without their dragons.

Dismally, Hiccup surveyed. Most of their dragons were mesmerized, trapped under Drago's spell. A lucky few (Toothless and Stormfly included) had been spared for scouting but risked Drago's hypnotism at any moment.

"And alllll thanks to you!" Astrid said, punching his armor. "Thanks to you we're pathetic as sheep!"

To the side, a sheep baaaaa-ed.

"Sorry Phil." Hiccup apologized. "Metaphor. Exaggeration. Astrid didn't mean that."

" _Yes - I - did_!" Heatedly, Astrid jabbed Hiccup's breastplate. "I meant every word! Thanks to you Hiccup Haddock, Drago is going to win! You think he's doing this for _The_ – "

She made air quotes. "—' _The King_?' Ha! Think again Mister! Drago wants power! He's putting us _and_ our dragons on the front line! Hiccup – we're going to be slaughtered like lambs!"

Again, to the side, a sheep baaaaa-ed.

"Shut up Phil!" Astrid spat.

Hiccup shouldered through Astrid, uncharacteristically angered.

"You don't understand." he said. " _No one_ understands. The King –"

"The King was _dead_ fore he died, Hiccup." Astrid followed. Stormfly and Toothless trailed behind. "So you saw him die. Big deal! Vikings and dragons die every day in Berk – "

"It was _not_ the same!"

Viciously, Hiccup spun. He was bloodshot, and the red highlighted his green irises. "The King was a _good_ _man_! He surrendered all power to protect his lady – and then he _died_ for her! He wanted to save the Otherland! And I believed – _I knew_ – that he could! But Fantasia…Fantasia…"

Tortured, Hiccup clenched his hair.

"I was there Astrid. I was _right there_. I could have saved The King. I could have saved him… but… Toothless was in trouble. So I turned and…"

Shamefully, Hiccup trembled. "Astrid. I was _right there_. I could have saved The King. My King. _Our_ King. But because of me…he's gone."

Astrid softened. Axe hanging, she gazed as Toothless approached Hiccup's side.

Shaking his tears, Hiccup met Astrid's stare.

"I know Drago is bad. I know he has separate plans. But if this is the only way to avenge The King...Then it's more than I could ever do. And it's more than I have done."

Toothless whimpered. Stormfly whined.

Astrid sighed. Checking for eavesdroppers, she dropped her axe and gave Hiccup a hug.

It was most un-Viking: but it felt good.

"You are a frustrating boyfriend, Hiccup. And a terrible Viking." Astrid rubbed Hiccup's hair. She smiled as he returned the favor. "But I'm glad you're mine. Peg-leg and all."

"Thanks Astrid."

"You're welcome."

Lovingly, Toothless and Stormfly swayed. To the side, Phil baaaaa-ed.

Astrid leaned into Hiccup's cheek. She closed her eyes, feeling him shift for the kiss.

Then she stopped.

"Hiccup." Astrid's eyes popped open. "Hiccup – is that _Hookfang_ flying over the trees?"

Hiccup turned. He squinted, and frowned. "Yeah. But where's Snoutlout? Is…is Hookfang _chasing_ something?"

"That's not a something." Astrid hefted her axe. "That's a _someone_."

Hiccup gripped his helmet. Toothless growled.

"Come on bud."

* * *

… **. ….. …**

* * *

Peter launched into the wind. Twisting, he suddenly dove backwards and skimmed the dragon's belly.

"KNOCK, KNOCK!" he called.

Hookfang bellowed. Peter assumed the dragon had answered _'Who's there?'_

"DRAGON!" Peter shouted, running up the spikey red tail.

Again, Hookfang roared. Again, Peter translated the outburst as _'Dragon who?'_

Tumbling like a gymnast and bouncing off the dragon's nose, Peter finished the riddle.

"DRAGON YOUR FEET AGAIN?! Ha ha! _Get it?_ _DragON – draggING_?! Come on – speed up! You're too slow to catch The One and Only - WHOA! WHOA! WHOA! WHOOAAAAAAA!"

Peter scampered backwards. But he was too late.

In time (another story), Peter would learn that he and Wendy make a great team. Together, they would prove dynamite in combat. Wendy was the pack – Peter was the punch. Wendy was the lock – Peter was the load. Wendy was the defense – Peter was the offense.

Wendy was cautious – Peter threw all caution to the wind….

…which was why Peter was too busy laughing at Hookfang to avoid Astrid and Hiccup's attack.

"Stormfly! Spine shots!"

"Toothless! Plasma blasts!"

"Hookfang!" Snoutlout shrieked as Ruffnut and Fishlegs darted into the fray. "FIRE!"

The explosion was colossal. It was bone crushing. It was a chain saw to the gut.

Of course, Peter survived. Barely, but it happened.

The Vikings...not so much.

"CRAAWWWHH! AWH AAHHH! AWH AAAAAAAAAAAAHHHH!"

Peter wriggled from the Viking-dragon heap. As the dragons barked and the Vikings squirmed under their hindquarters, Peter celebrated.

" _Go Peter! Go Peter! Go – Go – Go Peter – YeeeeeOW!_ Everybody join in! _Go Peter! Go Peter! Go – Go – !_ "

"Go Peter…." Tuffnut mumbled, dizzily aiming his mace. "Go….go….go – "

BONK. Peter punched. Tuffnut fell. The Vikings cringed – that would _also_ leave a scar.

"Okay! While I have your undivided attention…" Peter hurled Tuffnut's helmet at Hiccup. "Answer me this: how many Vikings does it take to take Fantasia?"

A thick accent replied. " _One_."

Peter looked down. A massive hand clamped his ankle.

"Oh boy."

Chief Stoick pulled. Like a bear to a fish, he slammed Peter into the ground. Peter struggled but instantly lost; Chief Stoick was pure iron. The Viking chief had once decapitated a dragon with his bare hands ; Peter didn't stand a devil's chance.

"Not so tough now are ya?!" Snoutlout sneered. He yelped as Peter kicked. "Ow! My nose! Owww! Everybody saw that RIGHT?"

"Ha." Tuffnut (fully recovered) elbowed Ruffnut. "That was just round one. Wait till Snoutlout gets a load of the fern gullian's right leg."

 _SMACK._

"OW!"

"I think he got it."

"You are DEAD MEAT!" Astrid heaved her axe at Peter's feet. The blade sunk into earth as Peter flipped halfway up, still anchored to Stoick. "You stinking fern gullian! I am going to FEED YOU to Stormfly!"

Stormfly licked her lips. _Goody._ She loved fern gullian.

"Fern gullian?" Stoick wrestled as Peter lurched back and forth. "Yer all wrong! This is not a fern gullian!"

"Actually…" Timidly Fishlegs tapped his index fingers. "I think he is. Judging by the triangular ear auricle, spritely features, and carefree risk-taking – "

"Oh BY THOR, Fishlegs! Wings! NO WINGS! Look!"

Stoick exchanged hands, wrenching Peter around. Spinning, Peter sunk into Stoick's beard. He gagged. The beard stunk – a little like blood. _Yikes_.

"This spy!" Stoick yanked Peter's shoulder blades. "Has no wings! Fern gullians have wings!"

"Ohhhh." Fishlegs pulled a lip. "Yessssss...um. I'm lost."

"Lost is right!" Stoick brandished Peter at the Vikings. " Ye let in a spy?! We've been breached! We've been located! I ordered ye to SCOUT, not PLAY AROUND – YE FLIMSY, FISHY, SPINELESS BUNCH OF YAK BRAINS!"

"Why does he always look at _us_ when he says that?" Ruffnut whispered to Tuffnut.

"Favoritism." Tuffnut answered. "We're the children he never had."

"What about Hiccup?"

"My point exactly."

"Hey!" Peter yelled. "HELLLLO?! Barf beard!"

Simultaneously the Vikings raised their weapons. Unperturbed, Peter continued to insult Stoick's pride.

"You must be dumb as your mama, Viking! I'm not a fern gullysomething! I'm a Fantasian, sent on a secret mission to –"

"Fantasian?"

Stoick clenched. Peter's throat collapsed easily as a tube of toothpaste.

"Well Fantasian…" Stoick extended Peter to Hiccup. "This war belongs to my son. Your fate… is _his_ decision."

Hiccup froze. One hand on Toothless, he watched Peter scratch his neck, trying to breathe. Indecisively, Hiccup recoiled.

Then, Drago melted from the forest.

"Kill him." Gently, Drago pressed the small of Hiccup's back. "Avenge Your King."

Hiccup stiffened. Darkly, he relived a moment no one would ever see, or fully understand.

Then,

"Toothless." Hiccup withheld tears. "Plasma blast."

Peter's eyes widened.

But Toothless refused.

"Toothless!" Hiccup cried, thrusting a finger at Peter. "Don't make this harder! Plasma blast! Now!"

Pleadingly, Toothless moaned, trying to dissuade him. But as Hiccup insisted, the dragon aggressively shook his head.

"Toothless!" Hiccup begged. "Bud come on! You saw, you understood The King! He was a good man, killed by - by -– Toothless just _kill_ him –!"

"ARRRRAAHHHHH!"

The Vikings jumped as Drago screamed. Bullhook jerking overhead, Drago roared at Toothless, casting his hypnotic spell. Furiously, Toothless struggled against Drago's command, writhing and grinding his head into the ground.

"Bud?" Hiccup lunged, but Astrid caught his chest. "Toothless? You okay, bud? What's going on?"

Drago smiled as Toothless' pupils narrowed to slits. Panting, the dragon stared robotically into blank space, unreceptive to Hiccup's call.

"Witness true strength." Smugly, Drago kicked Toothless' snout. As Toothless yipped, Drago pointed the dragon at Peter. "The strength of will over others."

Toothless turned. He focused on Peter.

Slowly, _mindlessly_ , he advanced.

"Kill." Drago ordered. He laughed as Peter thrashed. "Kill the fern gullian. Kill the Fantasian. _Kill_."

Toothless snarled. Plasma simmered between his teeth as a blast rumbled in his throat.

Unable to escape, Peter cowered into Stoick. Then, as Toothless sucked a fiery blast, Peter _desperately_ prayed:

" _Wendy_."

It wasn't much of a prayer. But it was the only one Peter knew.

And…it worked.

As Toothless reared, he sniffed. And as he sniffed he smelled. And as he smelled, he recognized…

"Um…" Peter raised a brow. "What's he doing?"

Drago's spell had mysteriously broken.

And Toothless was cuddling.

Yes cuddling.

The Vikings were a little embarrassed.

But Peter was tickled pink.

"Ha! So much for _witnessing true strength_ , huh Dreadlocks?!" Blowing raspberries at Drago, Peter happily snuggled with Toothless. He laughed as the dragon sniffed his ear.

"Yes good boy! Good boy! Watcha smelling, there? You like that? That's the side my girlfriend kisses – the side without feathers! You must be smelling her perfume or shampoo or something! Smells nice doesn't it? Doesn't it? Smells nice enough to zap you out of that big bad voodoo trance – WHOA!"

Following mention of his 'girlfriend,' Toothless promptly ripped Peter skyward. Unbeknownst to the bewildered Vikings and bickering chieftains, Toothless _had_ smelled Wendy. Peter was not a _firm_ believer in showers, and Wendy's scent from the previous night was strong enough to spark Toothless' memory and override Drago's spell.

Of course, no one, (save Toothless) was the wiser. And plans remained unchanged.

Now that they had been apprehended, the Vikings rushed to strike Fantasia. Stoick punched Drago. Ruffnut punched Tuffnut. Tuffnut punched Ruffnut. Snoutlout punched Fishlegs. Astrid punched Hiccup. Hiccup agonized. The dragons roared. The Vikings echoed.

And as he fled for Fantasia, Peter wondered:

 _(1) Were the Vikings planning to attack?_

 _(2) What the heck was a fern gullian?_

 _(3) Was Wendy waiting for him? Or was she…with Jim?_

* * *

... **.**...

* * *

 **sultal's note: per this story's NO OC policy: "Phil" IS a sheep in the HTTYD series. Baa.**


	69. Chapter 69: Jim's Wish

**Chapter 69: Jim's Wish**

"Wow."

Jim had roamed the galaxies. He had been stunned by universes feasible only in fantasy.

But Ariel was the most beautiful thing he had _ever_ seen.

"Ariel..." Somehow Jim found the strength to speak. "Ariel. You look..."

 _Irresistible. Breathtaking. Beyond belief._ Ariel blew the wind right out of Jim's sails.

Her outfit was simple: a high-collar, open-back dress with leather belt and boots, but the color was different: turquoise. Jim was surprised (and a little wobbly-kneed): Ariel usual wore purple. For some reason the turquoise made her sparkle.

"Wow." Jim repeated, unable to put her to words. "Ariel I... _wow_."

Shyly, Ariel smoothed a stray lock. The gesture softened Jim's insecurities – Ariel was oblivious to her beauty. Both she and Jim were still amazed by each other, still amazed by their luck. Their love was still a dream too good to be true.

"Uhm...this..." Swallowing his nerves, Jim handed Ariel a clear corsage box. He nodded at the violet waterlily inside. "This is for you."

Ariel covered her mouth, delighted. Practically singing, she pointed to her hair and mouthed.

"Yeah." Smiling, Jim opened the box. Careful of the translucent petals, he wove the flower behind Ariel's ear. "For your hair. I know purple is...your favorite..."

Jim was intoxicated. Unable to wait an instant longer, he kissed. Ariel returned, and it took a monumental effort to pull them back to earth.

That, and three evil giggles.

Leaning, Jim looked over his shoulder. "Mike. Lilo. Stitch. Scram."

Three pairs of eyes (under three pairs of devil horns) darted from the window. As the children thundered away, Jim sympathized with Wendy. So _this_ was how it felt to be under the gun.

"Sorry." Jim massaged Ariel's waist. "Little brother plus Thing One and Thing Two. I invited them over for game night. Ironically I thought it would take the heat _off_ you and me..."

Soundlessly Ariel laughed. _Still new to this brother thing, aren't cha?_ Expertly, she dictated. _Siblings put the heat ON you! It's their job!_

Jim heard Michael and Lilo snickering behind the door.

"No such thing as privacy, huh? In that case I'll get John and Michael to double team Wendy for me."

Jim had spoken jokingly, but Ariel suddenly averted eye contact.

He frowned. "What's wrong?"

Innocently Ariel shrugged, but she twisted a strand of hair – one of her nervous habits.

Jim tried to alleviate. "Well...if you're thinking about this morning...I took your advice. You know...tried to _lighten up_ about the whole Pan infatuation thing. I asked Wendy to bring Peter to game night."

Ariel started _. Really?_

Jim grimaced, the request still rancid in his mouth. "Yeah and it sucked. Thank god Wen said no – apparently they're having dinner tonight. But she should be back by twelve and its seven now so –"

Ariel pressed her index finger to his lips.

 _You are a TERRIBLE brother Jim_ !Tenderly, Ariel stroked his bangs. _But you are going to be an incredible father._

Jim blushed to the tip of his nose. But it was the nicest compliment he'd ever received.

"Well. Speaking of which..." Jim tickled Ariel's tummy. "We should get going. I've got a few more surprises, but I have to show you something first. You ready?"

Ariel tickled back. _Ready!_

"Where's your trident?"

 _Home._ Ariel jabbed a thumb. _I didn't want to be a guardian tonight. I just wanted you._ _You and me._

"Well." Stooping for a small duffle bag, Jim escorted Ariel from Pirate's Point. "Good. Better get used to it. Gonna be you and me forever, babe."

Ariel snuggled as they walked. _Forever and always._

The afternoon had been blustery, but the night was resplendent. Each star was polished bright, and the moon was a golden medallion. The sky was crystal clear and the starlight cast dark blue shadows.

"Perfect." Jim paused before King Arthur's castle. "Perfect night for stargazing. Okay Ariel, hold on a sec. Just got to get my..."

Jim knelt. Ariel watched curiously as he dug a rope-ladder from the duffle. The ladder was impossibly bunched, but glimmered with silver threads as Jim uncoiled the rungs.

"My bike's underwater..." Jim explained, spreading the untangled sections. "Weird accident today with Peter's shadow. Anyway, this is how I used to travel between stars, before I got the spaceship. See these silver strands? These are celestial threads. They were left over from shooting stars."

Ariel examined a rope. _Like when they unravel from the space fabric?_ she recalled from King Arthur's meeting.

"Yep." Jim said, unwinding the last of the ladder. "When a star dies naturally – from old age – it unravels without ripping the space fabric. Usually the celestial thread is left and just hangs. So, I braided celestial thread into these ropes. Remember, celestial thread isn't very strong. But..."

Neck craning, Jim assessed the castle's pitch. After a quick determination, he tossed the ladder. Ariel gasped soundlessly as the ladder soared up the stone wall and into the sky.

"But..." Jim finished, guiding Ariel to the bottom rung. "It's great for swinging on stars."

Ariel was overjoyed. _A new adventure? Scaling a castle and disappearing into the stars?! Yes!_ Without waiting for his invitation, Ariel kissed Jim's nose, grabbed the ladder, and climbed. The ropes practically tingled with her excitement.

Jim smiled. Slinging the duffle over a shoulder, he followed Ariel.

"Nice view." he gently called, and laughed when Ariel shimmied her skirt, improving it for him. Increasing pace, Jim silently thanked his lucky stars for the billionth time.

Miraculously, they ascended the castle undetected. Curtains of stonework turned into a tower forest, and starry pinpricks turned into a sky of jewels.

Helping Ariel off the ladder, Jim walked her to the tallest tower. Initially the height was daunting, but Jim navigated the narrow ridges confidently; years of solar surfing had given him _exquisite_ balance. With Jim, Ariel was safe.

"Kay." Doffing his duffle bag, Jim guided Ariel along the tower. Seating her at the edge, he flapped a blanket from the duffle and wrapped them inside.

"Comfy?" he asked.

Ariel cuddled, answering yes.

Jim motioned at their toes, dangling midair. The ground was obscured by low-lying mist, but the castle floor would have been too far to see, even without the fog. They were _very_ high, almost surpassing the stars.

"Not scared, are you? It's okay if you are." Reassuringly, Jim squeezed. "Mom is afraid of heights. So I won't let you fall."

Ariel snuffed. _Lie._

"Lie?"

 _Yes. Lie._ Ariel tilted, eyes pooling with starlight. _You make me fall in love with you every day._

A poet would have killed for their passion. Jim and Ariel embraced until the world sung and fireworks shot between them. Ariel would have continued until the Wishing Star tore them apart, but Jim suddenly slipped a golden locket about her neck.

"Here...let me fasten it..."

It was a beautiful gift. Pure gold, the chain was so thin it melted into Ariel's skin. The locket itself was a golden seashell, delicately engraved with one word: _melody_.

"Second surprise..." Jim rest the locket over Ariel's heart. "It's not a ring... since I haven't asked your dad yet. But it's something to remember me by. To hold and to keep. Always."

Ariel stared. The locket was lovely and she adored it; but her insides broke. Jim was not proposing. Tonight – their _last_ night in Fantasia – was not the _one._ It was not the one she would become his.

Heart crushed beneath the locket, Ariel looked down. Pretending to admire Jim's gift, she tried not to cry.

She was silly to believe she could hide from Jim.

"Hey...baby." Gingerly, Jim smoothed the tears caught in the corner of her eye. "I love you. I love you good or bad. Rain or shine. But I _won't_ tear you from your family. Ariel...if I could, I would have married you six years ago. But your dad needs you. And you need him. When we marry... he is going to be part of our world."

Ariel started to protest, but Jim interrupted.

"He loves you Ariel. Your father loves you. So tomorrow, before we leave...I will ask your father. I _promise_. All we need..."

Jim pointed. His finger touched a tiny star blinking on the horizon. "...is some luck."

 _Luck?_ Clasping her locket, Ariel peered at the blue-white star balanced on Jim's fingertip. He had spoken so seriously, as if ' _luck'_ was procurable, something he could buy. Moreover, when Jim pointed the star throbbed, almost in acknowledgement.

"That star..." Jim said, hugging Ariel close. "Is called _Alpha Eridani_ , part of the constellation _Eridanus_. The _Eridanus_ constellation represents a celestial river...a river in space. All constellations have souls and someday, I'll be able to extract their souls to fight. I tried it once with the constellation _Taurus_ the bull, but I had trouble with _Aldebaran_ , the brightest star. Stubborn. Someday it'll work. I'm getting close. But..."

Jim redirected Ariel to the blue-white star, _Alpha Eridani_. "The _Eridanus_ constellation has always been...friendly. I sailed my ship across the celestial river, and built my spacestaion at the base. Well, that blueish star right there - _Alpha Eridani,_ is dying. Tonight, she'll unravel from the space fabric. Tonight, she'll turn into a shooting star. Which means _tonight_..."

Jim looked at Ariel. "...we get to make a wish. _Any_ wish we want. And since _Alpha Eridani_ is a real shooting star...our wishes will have a good chance of coming true. There are just three rules..."

Waterlily brushing his nose, Jim whispered in Ariel's ear.

" _One_...when the star falls you have to close your eyes. _Two_...wish with all your heart, _everything_ you've got. And _three_..."

Easing back, Jim lay Ariel against him. Hand in her hair and eyes on the dying star, he breathed:

" _Three_...Don't tell me your wish. If you tell anyone your wish...it won't come true."

Together they waited. Together they gazed. And as the stars climbed diagonally into the sky, Ariel asked,

 _Why melody?_

Jim smiled as Ariel lifted her golden locket. Stealing a precious moment to look away from _Alpha Eridani,_ he answered.

"You put my life to music. You...are a melody."

They almost missed the shooting star. But _Alpha Eridani_ waited until they withdrew from the kiss. Then, stretching her twinkling arms one last time–

-the star fell. A dash in the night, spitting pale light, _Alpha Eridani_ flew over Fantasia – a beautiful shooting star.

Ariel beamed as the shooting star waved goodbye. Then, hands pressed upon her heart, she closed her eyes...and wished.

Ariel stayed closed as _Alpha Eridani_ sparkled intodust. She stayed closed until Jim gently nudged her with his third gift.

"I'm not saying anything about the wish." Jim smiled as she accepted the tiny white box. "But just in case..."

Ariel opened the lid. She unfolded the tissue paper...

Then she _glowed_. Seizing Jim, Ariel laughed and cried under the starlit sky.

For inside the little box, were two little socks.

Baby socks.

Just in case one...or both...of their wishes came true.

* * *

 **sultal's note:**

 **(1) SO, since Jim's middle name is "Pleiades" (The seven sisters star cluster on our earth) I figured it was safe to use our constellations in Fantasia. Maybe that's how our worlds are stuck together? Hm...interesting...**

 **Anyway, " _Eridanus_ " is the 'celestial river' constellation and _Alpha Eridani_ is a blue-white star in the sequence. BUT DON'T WORRY! The star is not really dead - I just made that up. (You know river...space...Ariel...Jim...) SO, I had to use _Eridanus._ Couldn't be helped. My b _Alpha Eridani._**

 **(2) SHOUT OUT to LindsayONeal9! I thought I did MY research but she messaged me with an IN DEPTH characterization of Sarah Hawkins, and mentioned that Sarah (in the movie) is afraid of heights! So I added it in here. Kudos girl - sultal VERY impressed! I love when writers do their research. ONNNNN POINNNNNNNT! Cyber high five!**

 **(3) Keep writing.**


	70. Chapter 70: NERF WAR

**sultal's note: LOTS of requests for the Wen/Peter date. Don't worry I am NOT drawing it out on purpose (remember, this is a story, not a single scene...although I LOVE the enthusiasm)!**

 **That being said - WEN AND PETER DATE will start the NEXT CHAPTER! (and extend through the next 3). Just 'cause I made you wait so long (again, not on purpose!).**

* * *

 **Chapter 70: NERF WAR**

Game night.

Battle stations everyone.

"CHEAT!" John (stripped to his undershirt) lunged for Jim's throat. Rainbow Monopoly money scattered as he caterwauled across the table. "YOU CURMUDGEON! YOU SULLION! YOU RAMPALLIAN! YOU PUTRID DOG FACED BARNACLE!"

It was too perfect.

"Oh god I've always wanted to do this."

Aiming imaginary guns, Jim savored the moment. " _Language_!"

John clutched his chest as the table roared.

" _OF – ALL – THE – NERVE_!" Heroically, John brandished his umbrella. "And NOW you BESMIRCH my SISTER! MY FAMILY! THE SACRED NAME OF DARLING! ACK! MICHAEL – VALIANT BROTHER! SHALL WE STAND FOR IT?!"

"No!" Michael cheered, skipping over Lilo, Stitch, and Tigerlily. Using John's tie as a karate headband, Michael dressed his brother for war. "Never ever ever! Jim you take back what you said about Wendy! You old bilge rat!"

"Boys!" Laughing beside Ariel, Sarah reached for John's umbrella. "Boys not in the house – !"

"PREACH BROTHER MICHAEL!" John bellowed. Tie flapping over his glasses, he sashayed the umbrella at Jim. " _MISTER_ HAWKINS YOU WILL REPENT FOR YOUR SLURS AGAINST OUR SISTER OR I _SHANT_ PAY YOUR INCONSEQUENTIAL SUM!"

" _Shant_?" Jim leapt, playing along. "You landed on my Monopoly! What tile did you land on – orange? _St. JAMES Place_ –?"

He quick high-fived Ariel before returning to gloat.

"—St. James Place WITH A HOTEL so it looks like you owe me NINE HUNDRED AND FIFTY BIG ONES Minister of Finance! PAY UP!"

"I SHAT!"

"WANNA BET?"

"HA! _GENTLEMEN_ DO NOT _BET_!"

"WANNA FIGHT?"

"OH!" John discarded his glasses. " _THAT_ WE MOST _CERTAINLY_ DO! MICHAEL MY UMBRELLA! JIM – _EN GARDE_!"

The environment cold not have been more pleasantly hostile.

Each 'game night' contender was lethal in their own special way. The Hawkins family hated to loose. Ariel loved to win. The Darlings all had nasty competitive streaks. Tigerlily was a silent killer. Lilo and Stich were just cheats. It was the perfect recipe for a cutthroat extravaganza.

"Boys!" Sarah called as Jim, John, and Michael wrestled over furniture. She grabbed, but Stitch sailed into the fray, making it three against one. Jim was squashed like a pancake. "Boys no roughhousing! John! Michael! Stitch! Jim! All of you -! Oh! Oh well..."

Defeated, Sarah waved. "Lilo get the NERF guns."

It was epic. Their NERF war would have sold a blockbuster hit! The air turned orange with NERF foam and thick with war cries! It started everyone against Jim, Jim against John, everyone against Stitch, Stitch against Stitch (no one understood how THAT worked), then girls against boys for the finale.

Nobody won. Nobody lost. But everybody had fun.

"Come back any time." Sarah hugged Ariel on the doorstep. She withdrew a moment as Tigerlily waved, taking Lilo and Stitch home. After a distant farewell, Sarah returned to Ariel. "Honestly, honey. Any time at all. It's been a delight having you. And..."

Secretively, Sarah glanced inside. Jim, John, and Michael were slam-duckng NERF bullets into the old toy box. As Jim spun, he caught sight of Ariel and smiled.

Sarah squeezed Ariel's hand. "And I hope someday we'll get to keep you. I know you are Jim are...well. You know, I know."

Ariel shone like a sea star. Undecided whether she wanted to marry Sarah or Jim, she embraced Mrs. Hawkins until Jim forced them apart.

"Well goodbye Ariel." Sarah granted Ariel and Jim their privacy. "We'll see you tomorrow at King Arthur's wedding. And really honey – come _any_ _time_. Goodnight."

Ecstatically, Ariel waved. A little ecstatic herself, Sarah waved back. It had been _ages_ since she felt this giddy. At last! The _'Jim Dry Spell'_ was ending; he'd found a girl that made him happy. And, it didn't hurt that Ariel was deadly with a NERF gun! Sarah approved.

"Alright trouble makers." Sarah corralled Michael and John upstairs. "Bedtime for everyone! We've got an early day tomorrow preparing for King Arthur's wedding. John you've got your minister duties and Michael I need to buy you a suit! No, no! No groans! Off to bed!"

"Did you see my bullseye?!" Michael spewed pretend NERF bullets. "Did you see it Mama Sarah, did you see my shot?!"

Sarah deflected the pretend bullet. "I think I felt it right in my caboose! You little miscreant."

"I wish Wendy was here." Excitement tempering, Michael hopped into the bathroom. Joining John at the sink, he began brushing his teeth. "She's _awesome_ at NERF tag. Maybe tomorrow night we can play again!"

John lowered his toothbrush. Concernedly, he glanced at Sarah through the mirror.

Sarah understood.

"Michael." she said, smoothing his hair. "Wendy and Jim are leaving tomorrow night. They're going back to their realms. They told us two days ago, remember?"

Confidently, Michael spit lather into the sink. "Wendy won't leave. I'm going to ask her to stay. She'll stay if I ask. Right, John?"

John delayed. Taking time to rinse his toothbrush and rub Vaseline over his hands, he finally replied.

"Michael. How would you like to sleep in my room tonight? You know exactly like we use to – draping blankets like tents?"

Michael jumped. "Really? Tent blankets? With flashlights?!"

"I think that would be most prudent. Mother Sarah - ?" John turned. "May we renovate my room into a heathen campground?"

"Heathen campground? With flashlights and all?" Sarah cleared the exit. "If you hurry."

"Yes!" Michael darted for extra blankets. "Yes! Yes! Yes! Just make sure to tell Wendy where I am when she gets home! Thank you Mama Sarah! You're the best!"

"Yes." Bending, John pecked Sarah's cheek. "You unquestionably are."

"Hm. Well, tomorrow he may have second thoughts when Wendy..." Sarah rubbed John sympathetically as Michael raided his room. "You'll talk to him, John?"

"Yes. Certainly." John unfastened the tie from his forehead. "But Michael won't take this well. Ever since the pirate ship kidnapping...well. Wendy is a bit of a hero to Michael. Heaven knows I want her here as well. But..."

John folded his tie. Unable to brainstorm a suitable justification for Wendy's departure, he sighed.

"Well. It's going to happen regardless. We'd all just...just better buck-up I suppose, so's not to upset Wendy. Or Jim. I imagine you feel the same. At least we have each other, even if it's not _all_ of each other."

John wavered as he spoke, but his voice remained crisp. Sarah recognized the mannerism:

John emulated his father (before the madness). Practical as pie. Cool as a cucumber. Steady and calm. It was one of the many attributes that drew Mary to George, and similarly Tigerlily to John. Both men were providers, captains of their households.

But John, for all his prudishness, was special. John prepared for surprises - even the bad ones. Therefore, he could support those afflicted when disappointment struck.

Standing on tiptoe, Sarah kissed John goodnight.

"Sleep well John."

John smiled. Just a smidge. "Goodnight, Mother Sarah. Rest soundly. Now – if Michael hasn't destroyed my charmeuse sheets..."

Once Michael and John were settled, Sarah turned to Jim's room. She felt sad. Wendy's departure would hurt, but Jim's would kill. Drearily recollecting Michael's plan to keep Wendy in Fantasia, Sarah knocked on Jim's door.

"Mom?"

She entered.

"How did you know it was me?"

Jim moved a pile of DVDs from his bed, clearing a space for her to sit. Sarah read the DVDs and smiled: _Star Wars._ Jim's favorite movie series.

"Ah." She lifted _Star Wars_ _Episode VI: A New Hope._ "I see you used The Force."

"Ha." Jim stacked two DVDs. "I wish. Nah, I heard you in the hall with Mike and John. These DVDs are just research. I think I can _actually_ make a lightsaber this time using plasma from the sun."

Sarah rolled her eyes good-naturedly. Jim had been trying to build a lightsaber since age three. "Jim, you know they're fake."

"Yeah I know."

"Still going to try, hm?"

"Can you blame me?"

Sarah chuckled. "I guess not."

"Ariel likes _Star Wars_." Jim abruptly said. Sarah tried not to smirk as he chattered like a lovesick goon. "I mean she _really_ likes _Star Wars_ – cannon and expanded universe. She can name every character, every jedi and sith lord, every lightsaber color, every battle, every ship. She almost knows more than I do. God..."

Almost tenderly, Jim rotated a DVD – _Star Wars Episode II: Attack of the Clones_. "Never would have pegged Ariel for a geek. Funny."

Nonchalantly, Sarah fingered the third _Star Wars_ movie: _Revenge of the Sith_. "So when's the wedding?"

" _Wedding_?" Jim almost fell off the bed. "Uhm – uh – what do you mean wed - ?"

"Jim you and Ariel were _glowing_ downstairs. I don't think you two unglued once."

"Uhmmmm..."

"All I am saying..." Sarah said. "Is if you love this girl – which I think you do – time is ticking. At first I was worried, I thought you were going too fast. But Wendy was right – Ariel is lovely. Utterly lovely. She's spirited, open, and she is very much in love with you. So before it's too late...Jim, marry her."

Jim was silent.

"I...well I do. I love her. But...I have to do something first."

"What?"

Jim removed _Revenge of the Sith_ from his Sarah's lap.

"I have to ask Admiral Triton for her hand."

Sarah was surprised. Impressed. Pleased. But surprised. "I see. Well. Do you mind if I ask why?"

Jim's response was numb. And...painful.

"Admiral Triton is Ariel's father. And...I don't want to be the reason they never speak to each other again."

The hidden meaning was clear as a bell.

Sarah's heart broke. But then it healed. For after all this time – after all the bitterness and hate – Jim was _finally_ opening. He was _finally_ showing his wounds.

"Jim..." Sarah held her son's cheek. Stroking gently, she spoke. "You are _not_ why your father left. Do you hear me? You are _not_ the reason Sinbad left."

Jim tried to stop it, but a tear slivered into Sarah's thumb.

"Then...why?"

Sarah rubbed the tear away.

"I don't know. But, it was not you."

He looked down. A little choke.

"Am I like him?"

"You resemble him, yes." Sarah traced as she spoke. "The eyes. The shoulders. A bit in the face."

"No." Jim grasped her hand. "Am I _like_ him?"

Sarah gazed, comprehending the question and understanding his fear. Jim was afraid Sinbad's selfishness would overcome his desire for Ariel. He was afraid the temptations that lured Sinbad, would kidnap him as well – but without warning. Just like the day his father disappeared from their lives.

It was a difficult question. But Sarah knew the truth – Jim _eerily_ resembled Sinbad. His build, his smile, his expressions all mirrored his father. And although it was a darker shade, Jim's adventurous spirit was Sinbad's. It was Sinbad's through and through.

But...there was something else. Something distinct.

Jim was... _loyal_. He was _alarmingly_ loyal. Unlike Sinbad, Jim's allegiances _did not_ blow with the wind. Jim had saved the cyborg Long John Silver from certain death. He loved Ariel against all odds. He protected Wendy with disarming ferocity. And although he had grown into a man, Jim was never too old to hug his mother.

"No, Jim." Lying only enough to allay his fears, Sarah smiled. "No. You are like me."

Jim blinked tears. Leaning over his childhood DVDs, he gave Sarah a hug.

"I love you, Mom."

Silently, Sarah wept. One tear, maybe two, but both twinkling with happiness. Her heart was whole: once again, she had her baby boy.

Rocking, she whispered. "I love you too."

The embrace ended as Jim's alarm-clock beeped, signifying the ten o'clock hour. The moon was high and the ocean breathed sleepily under silver beams.

"Time for bed." Standing, Sarah brushed Jim's hair. "Big day tomorrow. We want to make the most of it. Okay Jim – teeth brushed and lights out."

"In a sec – like an hour or two." Jim indicated the clock. "I'm waiting for Wen. She should be back at twelve."

Sarah paused, debating whether to speak.

"Jim." she finally said, "What do you plan to do with Wendy once you are married?"

Jim peered. "What?"

"You and Ariel are going to lead separate lives." Sardonically, Sarah smiled. "And as much as she loves you, I'm _sure_ Wendy doesn't want to be included in _all_ of it."

"Mom what are you -?"

"Jim." Sarah sighed, "Again, you are a wonderful brother. But you _need_ to let Wendy live her own life. You have always been close, but Jim if you hold too tight...she will run away."

" _Run away_?"

"Perhaps literally." Sarah warned. "Jim, I can see it – Wendy is already frustrated. She is _terrified_ to upset you, to make a mistake. If you keep this up, she won't trust you. She'll be too scared. It's simple as that. Jim...I know you don't like Peter..."

"Correction I hate –"

"But isn't it worth _something_ that Wendy _does_?" Sarah interrupted before Jim could argue. "Isn't your friendship, _everything_ you've been through, _everything_ you've meant to each other worth the benefit of the doubt? Wendy loves you – dearly. Can't you love her enough to let her go?"

Jim glowered like a trapped animal. "But – Mom Peter doesn't – "

"I still haven't approved of Peter." Sarah said. "But Wendy _has_. And until I've seen more, that's good enough for now. So, if by the stroke of twelve Wendy isn't here – you are giving her a little window. Understand?"

"...how much of a window?"

" _Jim_."

" _Fine_. But I'm still worried that –"

"And that –" Sarah kissed Jim's head. "Is why you are like me, and not like your father. Goodnight Jim."

"Night Mom."

"Love you sweetheart."

"Love you too."

Softly shutting Jim's door, Sarah readied for bed. The evening, albeit sad, seemed complete. Flowing through her bedtime routine, Sarah happily unwound.

Then she found a letter from Wendy. The letter was propped harmlessly on her pillow, but the message split Sarah's spine.

 **Hello Sarah –**

 **I hope you've had a lovely day, I know Jim and I missed you.**

 **Something odd happened before I left. A strange man appeared (unannounced) and he asked for you. I've never seen him before, and he did not give a name when I asked. This is probably a dreadful description – but he was very tall, wide shouldered, prominent cheekbones, brown hair, brown eyes and _extremely_ rude. He was also carrying some sort of curved sword – scimitar?**

 **I thought you'd want to know.**

 **Love,**

 **Wendy**

Sarah froze. The letter fluttered from her hands as Wendy's description resurrected into a memory. _A man,_ v _ery tall, wide shouldered, prominent cheekbones, brown hair, brown eyes, and yes extremely rude –_

- _with a scimitar._

Sarah didn't realize she was clutching her locket until the metal bit her palm. Was it just coincidence that Jim had mentioned his father...or was Wendy's mysterious stranger...

 _Sinbad._

"Michael, John." Urgently, Sarah switched John's bedroom light. Stepping over blankets, pillows, and cushions, she frisked the window. "John does this have a lock?"

"Mom?" Jim frowned as Sarah reentered his room. "Mom are you okay?"

"Close your window." Sarah slammed the pane, "And keep it shut."

The precaution was repeated for every window and door. Heart roaring, Sarah drew curtains, lowered shades, and locked every lock. Remembering Wendy's expected arrival, she scribble a sticky-note ( **WENDY KNOCK LOUD** ), wrenched open the front door, slapped it on the panel–

-and listened. The night was quiet. Deathly. Just like the second before a storm.

And perhaps it was her imagination...but as the sea breeze pulled her hair...Sarah thought...she heard...a small...laugh...

The door shut. A lock clicked. Sarah's panicked breaths bled though the keyhole.

Sinbad smiled.

"Wow." Stealthily, Sinbad crept over the roof. Crouched under a window he inched against the light, risking exposure to admire his wife. "Wow. Sarah Hawkins... you have not changed."


	71. Chapter 71: Shatter

**Chapter 71: Shatter**

She burned it. She accidentally hit one too many buttons. 33:33 instead of 3:33. Peter's SpaghettiOs, tater tots, and dinosaur-shaped chicken nuggets were decimated. Massacred. Ruined.

She burned a _microwaveable_ dinner.

Wendy was beside herself.

"Ohhhh no. _Well done_ Wendy Moria!"

 _Well done?!_ _Ohhhhh...!_

The unintentional pun almost drew tears. Scraping the carnage from Peter's dinner plate, Wendy dumped all confidence in the trash. She was convinced – the evening was spoiled.

Thus far, her wait for Peter had been tragic. She'd arrived at the Fitzherbert residence _far_ too early, and spent most of the evening ignoring Flynn's _uncouth_ insinuations. Rapunzel _further_ (albeit unintentionally) dampened her spirits by suggesting Wendy 'freshen up.' Apparently Wendy looked a wee bit 'tatty.' _Wonderful_. _Now she was lecherous and ugly_.

After Flynn provided directions to Peter's "boudoir" (Wendy's conscience heaved), Rapunzel dragged him away. Granting Wendy full household clearance, the Fitzherberts departed for Aladdin and Jasmin's mansion.

Then the torture began.

At first Wendy sat absolutely still. Immobile, she listened to time drain away. Then, her thoughts started talking. Her agitations swelled.

Finally, Wendy broke. Although Peter was absent, she began preparing dinner. The silence was unbearable, she had to move, she had to distract her anxieties. So she set the table – and broke a plate. She lit the candles – and scorched a finger. She mixed the lemon-lime _KoolAid_ – and mistook salt for sugar. She preheated Peter's dinner – and it burned.

She ruined _everything_.

Almost hysterical, Wendy collapsed at the table.

And oddly enough, she wished for Peter.

"He'd laugh."

Gloomily, Wendy dropped _Gushers_ into a crystal candy bowl. A little heartened that the dessert looked presentable, she calmed. "Peter would call me a silly girl...and laugh until I smiled. Then he would eat everything. Salty _KoolAid_ , burned _SpaghettiOs_ and all. He'd probably ask for seconds..."

Reflectively, Wendy traced the crystal bowl. Then, thinking of Peter, she smiled in realization:

Peter laughed at mistakes. Unlike Jim, Peter laughed mistakes into oblivion. Mistakes weren't the end of the world; mistakes were the spice of life! And through Peter's example, Wendy was learning to laugh at herself.

Now, Wendy was a perfectionist. A _professional_ perfectionist. But she had to admit: loving a man that _did not_ demand perfection was...nice. Peter took her, imperfections, flaws, blemishes and all.

Abruptly, Wendy wondered: Perhaps _that_ was the secret of ' _love_.' Perhaps _love'_ was not _despite_ one's imperfections...perhaps _love_ was _because_ of them.

"Strange..." Wendy frowned at the candlelight. Shifting, she felt Ariel's slip beneath her dress. "Very strange."

The clock tolled nine. Wendy glanced at the door – still no Peter.

"Well." Briskly dousing the candles, she marched upstairs. "Let's freshen up."

And she did. Accepting Rapunzel's suggestion, Wendy locked the bathroom and left her nerves outside. She _was_ scared. Scared to death. But Wendy was determined to look beautiful for her future husband.

After all, she loved him.

And she _desperately_ wanted him to love her.

So, in her fashion, Wendy aimed for perfection. She curled her hair, pinched her cheeks, and _even_ tied Peter's cherished apron with a lavish bow. She exhausted herself to look beautiful.

"Alright. " Smoothing butterflies from her stomach, Wendy breathed. "I'm ready."

Wendy found Peter's bedroom. Like a fawn lured to a wolf cage, she shivered before the door. It scared her. But she couldn't stop.

Reaching, Wendy swallowed a heartbeat.

"He loves me ...or he'll love me not."

* * *

 **... ... ...**

* * *

Wendy's window. Oh god – it looked good enough to eat.

Exhausted, Peter let gravity take over. Tipping head first, he careened.

The Viking attack had caught up with him; blisters had started to burn and bruises started to hurt. But above all, his head ached. Every suspicion concerning Wendy and Jim throbbed like an axe through the skull.

As Peter dropped, the wind iced his wounds. Relaxing, Peter closed both eyes, relying on the whistling wind for timing; the sound would change as he approached the house. And the cool air was soothing. It felt good.

But, all Peter wanted was Wendy. His unhappy thoughts were turning volatile– he _craved_ Wendy's stability. He just wanted to lay on her lap and fall asleep as she stroked his hair. He just wanted Wendy to kiss his cheek and make it all better. He just wanted Wendy. The ' _Jim—Thing'_ could wait.

The wind increased pitch. Eyes opening, Peter decelerated sharply at Wendy's window and wove inside.

It was dark – patchy with moonlight, but dark.

"Wendy?" Peter whispered. His throat stung where Stoick had strangled, but he called again. "Wendy? Wendy it's me. It's Peter. Peter Pan. You there?"

Nothing.

Peter was confused. It was unlike Wendy to break a promise. They _were_ meeting tonight, and _Wendy_ had offered. Yesterday she was so eager to cook him dinner, bless her heart. _Where was she?_

Distressed, Peter reasoned: maybe it was a game. Playmaking was _also_ unlike Wendy, but Peter ignored the detail. If Wendy was hiding he had to find her. Hope refreshed, Peter searched inside her closet, under the bed ("Hiya Shadow"), and even overturned her sheets. Still, no Wendy.

"Maybe..." Distastefully Peter considered the door. "Maybe she's downstairs. With her...family."

It wasn't an outlandish possibility. It was actually quite probable. True, they hadn't actually _agreed_ on a rendezvous spot, but Peter assumed Wendy would be waiting by her window. Excited. Nervous. A little impatient. At least, he'd _wanted_ her to be.

Uncertainly, Peter edged to the door. Avoiding the light, he nudged it ajar and listened.

His ears crackled. They almost danced off.

Peter heard laughter. Piles, mounds, _mountains_ of laughter from downstairs. The merriment was so engaging, Peter almost laughed along. Why, there were so many people laughing, Peter couldn't tell if Wendy was intermingled.

Regardless, it was a colorful sound; Peter could visualize every smile, every smirk. It was the sound of warmth, happiness, silliness, and...family. Wendy's family.

Not his.

Peter listened as the board game turned into a tussle and the tussle turned into a NERF war. He was curious, but the desire to spy was overwhelmed by envy and resentment.

To Peter Pan, ' _family_ ' was just a word. True, ' _a family_ ' was the hottest item on every orphan's Christmas list, but it was the biggest disappointment when one didn't appear under the tree. Through childhood, ' _family'_ became _fantasy_. By adulthood it was immaterial.

But secretively, Peter longed for ' _a family_.' He gathered that ' _family_ ' was _much_ more than ' _a buncha people living together_ ,' but the idea was still undefinable.

Until he met Wendy.

Until he met Wendy, Peter existed as a selfish entity – The One and Only Pan. Until he met Wendy, ' _bad times'_ meant ' _survival of the fittest'_ – not ' _I got your back._ ' Until he met Wendy, Peter had no concept of compromise, support, or love.

But Wendy was teaching. And Peter was learning. Slowly.

Perhaps, too slowly.

Because Peter _almost_ ventured downstairs. _Almost_.

But then he saw Wendy's dreamcatcher. Rather, he saw Jim's golden earring, gleaming inside the magical webbing, glaring in the moonlight.

"No..."

His dagger flashed. The dreamcatcher snapped. The earring fell.

" _Fine_." Shutting his ears to the family's laughter, Peter tore from Wendy's bedroom. Viciously, he snarled into the night. "Stay with your _family_."

* * *

 **... ... ...**

* * *

Wendy was entranced.

Peter's room held his signature. She would have known it was his blindfolded.

The room was deceptively silent, still has a fox. Peppermint and pine spiced the air, despite the _Mountain Dew_ cans discarded without care. Peter's bed was naked. Wendy quickly identified why: he'd strung the sheets into a hammock. The hammock neighbored the window, probably so Peter could survey the sky. There was a pile of neon sneakers. A second pile of Indian garb. And stashed under Peter's pillow was a pan flute. Wendy was charmed.

Shamelessly Wendy explored, but somehow she knew Peter wouldn't mind. The room was organized for a flamboyant display, almost as if Peter was silently bragging. Each article grabbed Wendy's attention and told her a little story of Peter Pan.

It was comforting. But as Wendy waited for Peter, her comfort paled. The moon arched across the window. The clock struck ten. Half past. Quarter to eleven. Five minutes to.

"He's coming tonight...isn't he?" Hands clasping in and out, Wendy stared at the door. Terrified, she wondered what Jim would _do_ to her if she was late. Her? Heavens - what would he do to Peter?

Imagination already rampant, Wendy suddenly feared for Peter. "Maybe...maybe he's hurt. Maybe he's still in the Otherland...maybe he's with..."

Wendy's stomach dropped. The previous night's disaster, her quarrel at _Tiana's Palace_ , rapidly replayed as she remembered...

 _Tinkerbell_.

"No." Wendy rose from the bed. She turned a circle as Tinkerbell snickered inside her head. "No, no, no. No please..."

She stopped.

Dead.

A starlit breeze had opened the window.

And standing in the silver, looking at her...was...

* * *

 **... ... ...**

* * *

Peter butchered the night. He flew until holes burned behind him. Wrathfully he stormed the Outerworld, intent on cutting every star from the sky.

But he did not. Tortured with unhappy thoughts, Peter stumbled to earth. He found Rapunzel and Flynn's house. He drifted through his window...

And stopped.

Dead.

Wendy.

Wendy was there.

Wendy was waiting, she waiting for him.

She looked...

Peter couldn't breath.

... _gorgeous_. She looked _gorgeous_. Something about Wendy was glowing, like she'd swallowed the stars, moon, and sun. Something about the _way_ Wendy was _watching_ him sent shivers _exactly_ where they needed to go.

Peter thought he was dreaming. She was too beautiful to be true. This had to be a dream.

Then he knew he was.

Because Wendy, his little Wendy, met his gaze...and began to undress.

Silently. Delicately. Eyes on him.

Peter shattered. He shattered to pixie dust.


	72. Chapter 72: Love Me

**song: "Lullaby" by Mattia Cupelli. on YouTube.**

 **scene pic on my DA page - "I'll Show You the Ropes."**

* * *

 **Chapter 72: Love Me**

Wendy had been scared before. Many times.

But _nothing_ scared her the way Peter did. The way remained unbearably still. The way he silently adored her. The way his eyes unwrapped her body. The way he _wanted_ her.

Wendy looked up once. Her gaze withered inside Peter's. He was hungry. He was eating every piece of her, slowly breaking her apart. She could almost _feel_ his teeth scraping her spine, sinking into her skin.

She was so scared.

So, as the sky blue dress rolled from her body, Wendy stopped. She stood in the pale pink slip, a shivering rosebud frosted in starlight.

Peter stared.

"Was that for me?"

A nod. Very small.

"That was beautiful." Peter whispered.

Her gaze held the ground. She hardly breathed. "...thank you."

She felt Peter grin, gently teasing her demure.

"Wendy?"

"...yes."

"I missed you."

Wendy's heart bubbled into her mouth. Fear mixed with happiness, she looked at Peter.

He smiled.

"And now? Miss Darling?"

 _And now...?_

Wendy breathed.

Then, delicately as if she were stepping stones, Wendy crossed the starlit floor to Peter. She brushed his rambunctious hair; closed his midnight eyes; and led him to the bed. And as Peter sat, eyes perfectly closed, Wendy smoothed his collar, found the nearest button, and began to unfasten.

Eyes closed, Peter smiled. Wendy was certain he would peek. But he didn't. Obediently blinded, Peter reclined slightly on the mattress as Wendy unbuttoned his shirt. Occasionally he would interfere to rub her hand against his chest, beneath the button she'd just undone.

Wendy understood. Peter was teaching her, guiding her and she guided him. He was slowing her pace, introducing her to his body, savoring each mysterious touch.

And all the while with eyes closed.

Halfway down Peter took Wendy's hand. Letting the weaker work the button, he kissed her fingers, intermittently slipping them into his mouth. It was a startling, stomach swooshing feeling. When Wendy thought they couldn't become more intimate, Peter grazed her thigh. Again, it startled her – Peter stroked lightly, but his hand was _burning_. Like a furnace.

 _My garter._ Wendy suddenly realized. She blushed as Peter caressed her leg in and out. _He's looking for my garter._ _But it's not there. Can't he feel it's not there? Stop –stop touching -_

Wendy opened her mouth to apologize, _praying_ to stall Peter's exploration. But suddenly, he cupped her thigh and drew her over his knee. Leg between hers, Peter gently forced her to sit.

Her heart hit the ceiling. It broke the roof and smashed the stars. Pulse throbbing against Peter's knee, Wendy fumbled with his buttons. She continued without interruption, save for the occasional sway of Peter's leg as he experimentally altered pressure beneath her, exploring.

And all the while with eyes closed.

Finally Wendy unfastened the last button. Timidly fingering his collar, she wondered how to undress the sleeves without leaning too far, when Peter suddenly drew her forward. As Wendy fell, the sleeves pushed over Peter's arms.

As she fell, they caught with a kiss.

Wendy did not know, but _this_ was Peter's favorite part: kissing. Peter was a master kisser – but Wendy was a _magician_. There was something magical hidden inside her kiss that fulfilled secret pleasures Peter _never_ imaginedpossible _._

They kissed forever, or so it wonderfully seemed. As time spread, Wendy relaxed. Peter seemed perfectly content to kiss. _Just kiss_. True, his hands roamed – browsing her body, twirling her hair ribbon, flirting with her slip – but it was innocent. It was sweet.

Wendy even enjoyed herself. Rising to her knees, she draped over Peter like silk. Confidence soaring, she sampled his body and giggled when she kissed electric spots (earlobes, obviously. Peter was nothing _but_ ears). Peter gracefully reciprocated, flushing Wendy's neck with a repertoire of indulgences.

It was lovely. Wendy breathed Peter in, relished every thrill, and _thanked heaven_ that they could love without –

Then it changed. Viciously as a spark.

Peter stopped being gentle. He stopped taking care. He took control _from_ Wendy, and twisted roles to take control _of_ her.

It happened too swiftly to stop.

Peter grabbed.

One hand anchored her neck, forcing her still. His other glided under her slip, against her stomach and between her breasts. His fingers crawled left, over her heart – his mouth followed –

Wendy knew it was supposed to happen. Part of her even wanted it to.

But she was scared. Scared to death.

Scared...but helpless. Scared...but too late.

Wendy pressed her forehead into Peter's hair. She clenched his shoulders, desperately praying, silently _begging_ him to save her, to stop – stop – stop – _stop_ –

Then, he did.

Peter stopped. He felt Wendy's heartbeat firing through his palm. He heard her trying not to cry, holding him so tight she couldn't breathe.

He read her. For the first time, Peter _read_ Wendy. And understood.

Peter opened his eyes. He inhaled a small noise: tortured, carnal, wispy. And on the exhale...

"Okay pretty girl..."

Slowly, _very slowly_ , Peter removed his hands.

"Okay."

* * *

 **sultal's note: BY FAR the hardest chapter to write. BY FAR. '** _ **Giving Fantasia**_ **' readers span a decade-ish in age from what I gather, so I had to navigate that fine line of "intimacy/class" and "adult/innocence." Very hard, still not 164% satisfied how it turned out, but it's good enough.**


	73. Chapter 73: Love Me Not

**Chapter 73: Love Me Not**

"N-no."

Wendy stammered as Peter eased her away. The immediate danger had passed, but Wendy knew she could not bear Peter's disappointment. _What was happening? What did she do wrong? He wasn't pleased, she wasn't pretty, something was terribly, horribly wrong._

"Peter." Still trembling, Wendy reached as Peter strode to the window. She panicked, suddenly fearful he would leave. "Peter wait, please wait – "

"That's what we're doing." Hands on the window pane, Peter gulped a cool breeze. He was sweating. Blistering. The air practically moistened as he dissipated heat. "We're waiting."

"Waiting?"

"Yes."

"B-but –"

"Shh."

"Peter I –"

"Shh!"

"Peter I'm sorry, I'm –"

" _Wendy_." Peter clawed his hair. He'd almost growled, as if every shred of self-restraint was withholding an inner beast. " _No talking_. _Shh._ "

Wendy hushed. As Peter panted, calming his urges, she waited for him to yell, laugh, and mock. She was ashamed, humiliated, and she deserved whatever came next.

"Okay..." Haggardly, Peter straightened from the window, rolled his neck, pressed his eyes, and ruffled his hair. The ends stuck in wild directions as he crossed to a corner closet. For a moment he disappeared inside. Then he reemerged with a green bathrobe, which he placed beside Wendy.

Wendy edged from the bathrobe. She looked nervously at Peter, uncertain if it was safe to talk.

Peter smiled. It was forced, but kind.

"Go ahead." he motioned. "Put it on."

"But..."

Wendy heard Tinkerbell taunting in a memory. _No wonder you can't hack it in bed._

"No." Tremulously, she pushed the bathrobe. "No I—"

"Fast would be good." Peter said, eyes flickering hungrily over her slip. Voice strained, he repeated. "Just... just put on the bathrobe. It's okay. We're waiting. You're...you're not ready."

Wendy was devastated.

"Y-yes I am." Wendy countered, desperate to save _her_ dignity and _his_ desires. "I am ready. I – "

"No." Kneeling before her, Peter softly corrected. "No Wendy, you're not."

" _But I am_." Recanting every fear, Wendy begged. "I'm sorry about before. I'm sorry about whatever I – I... I _am._ I'm _ready_. And I want to... with you."

His silence killed her.

"Peter." She fought tears. "Can't you tell?"

Peter gazed.

"Yes." he finally said. "I can tell. But...I can also tell that you're nervous. I can also tell that you're scared..."

Almost pityingly, Peter finished.

"And I can tell that you're not doing this for us."

Wendy was speechless. Peter had disarmed her every plea with empathy, unselfishness, and a tender smile. He was gracious, humble, and _very_ adult.

Wendy never loved Peter so dearly.

So, for his sake, she tried again.

"But...I am. I'm doing this for you."

"Exactly." Peter soothed. "For _me_. You're not doing this for _us_."

" _Yes I am_." A tear dripped down Wendy's cheek. "Please. Believe me. I love you."

The light in Peter's eyes would have looked pretty on the ugliest face. As Wendy spoke those three magical words, her sincerity made them sparkle. Peter could have died that instant and flown happily to heaven. Wendy loved him. And...and he...

Peter half rose. He almost touched her. Then, painstakingly, he returned to his haunches.

"Okay. Prove it. Take it off."

Wendy recoiled.

"What?" she breathed, although she understood completely. Legs drawing together, she asked. "What...what do you mean?"

"The slip. It's beautiful. And you look..."

Passions refueling, Peter blew his bangs, trying to ease the rage. "You look... _gorgeous_. But if you're ready...finish. Take it off."

Wendy's heart left the room. She stared at Peter. Peter stared back, desires burning like liquid fire.

"If you're ready." Peter repeated, fists quivering on his knees. "Take it off."

Wendy breathed. Eyes on Peter, she touched the slip. She took a strap and lowered it. She took the other. She lowered that. Brushing the breast line, she fingered the pink fabric, drew it down –

"I—" Wendy stopped. "You do it."

Peter stiffened. His eyes itched, caressing her every contour, her every curve.

Slowly, Peter rose. Breaths heavy and indulgent, he stroked Wendy's hair. Letting the caramel ringlets ripple from his fingers, he smoothed her neck, collar, shoulders, spine...traced her slip...took the pale pink straps...

... and slid them back to place.

"You are gorgeous Wendy." Gently, Peter sighed into her hair. "But you're not ready. Come on pretty girl. Don't cry. I have you. Here...Let me help you put this on."

Tearfully, Wendy donned his bathrobe. The task would have been impossible without Peter – she was so upset.

"I'm sorry. Peter I'm so sorry."

"Stop apologizing." Peter grinned, tying her sash. Thoughtfully, he finished with a bow. "There. See? All better. Everything's all better – you're here, I'm here. That's all that matters. We're together and we have all night."

"All night...all ni...What time is it?" Wendy found the clock. She read the time and gasped. "Eleven twenty? _Eleven_ _twenty_? It's already...oh no. Oh no, Peter I have to go – "

"Wait, wait no. Wendy..." Imploringly, Peter rubbed her cheek. "I haven't seen you all day. Stay with me. Come on, just stay. It's just you and me...me and you. Plus, what about dinner?"

Peter had meant to be comforting, but Wendy burst into tears.

"Peter I...I _burned_ it."

"You...?" Peter blinked. Then, as Wendy predicted, he laughed. He heartily and robustly laughed.

"Aw Wendy!" Consolingly, Peter rocked Wendy against him. "Aw my little Wendy. You _were_ nervous! That's hilarious, you burned dinner! Awww. Poor little lady. Is there anything left?"

"Just the Gushers." she sniffed. "But you can't make a meal out of –"

"Looks like you'll have to be the main course!" Peter said, straddling her from behind. Cheerfully, he kissed the nape of her neck. "Mm, yummy. Delectable! Don't worry, we'll get to the Gushers later. But for now..."

Wendy shifted as Peter hugged her waist and kissed. As he disappeared into her neck, she mourned.

"I ruined everything."

"Mmm hmm." Peter agreed, clearly preoccupied. "Terrible."

Wendy kneaded a tear. "I didn't do it right."

"Terrible." Peter repeated, nibbling his way up her jaw. "Disgrace."

"I was horrible."

"Mmmm hmmm."

"Dreadful."

"Uhhh huhhh."

Mortified, Wendy clasped her mouth. "My mother would be _ashamed_."

" _Un –consolable_!" Peter tightened his grip. "Okay hold on, going for a ride..."

Peter hiked. As Wendy bumped against him, her pink slip peeked over the bathrobe.

"Oh." Wendy overlapped the robe's ends. "I didn't even know what to wear."

Peter chuckled. "I think the idea is to throw it on the floor anyways."

"Peter!"

"Okay, or hanger."

"Ohhhh." Wendy tried to stand, but Peter squeezed her waist. Leaning helplessly into him, she shook her head. "This was supposed to be perfect. This is our last night together, we may never see each other ever again. Tonight was supposed to be – "

"Don't worry." Gingerly, Peter sucked her ear. "You did _way_ better than you think."

"No I didn't."

"Oh yes you did! You little vixen!"

"Stop being nice – "

"You little sex kitten!"

"Peter -!"

"You little lady of the night!"

"Peter Pan -!"

" _Promiscuous_ with a capital _P_!"

"Peter I am – "

Wendy turned, smushed against Peter's lips, waited until the kiss ended, then adamantly continued.

"Peter I am _trying_ to feel sorry for myself!"

Of course, Peter laughed. It was infuriating but as he crowed, Wendy smiled.

"And you have SO much to feel sorry for, I agree. You're young, beautiful, you look incredible in pink, you _fit_ into this thing – I mean look how tiny it is!"

Sneakily, Peter nabbed her slip and tugged. "One sneeze could blow it right off! Sssss _nnnnnfffffffoooooooozzzzzzzllllllle_!"

Wendy giggled as Peter nuzzled (with sound effects). When the performance was over, Peter snuggled against her. For a sweet moment, he just held.

"Feeling better, pretty girl?"

Wendy fingered his hair. "Yes. But I still wish... I wish I could have made you happy. "

Peter's heart fluttered, but he ignored the beat. Reclining, he rest them on a single pillow. Eyes to eyes. Nose to nose. Cheek to cheek.

"When you're ready... then we will. But only when you're ready. I'll wait. After all..." He twirled her blue ribbon. "You waited for me."

Wendy smiled. "You are a wonderful boy, Peter Pan."

"Yeah." Lightly, Peter nicked her nose. "I know."

"Oh Peter. I know you know."

"Smart girl."

"Silly boy."

"Perfect match."

Wendy sighed, fingers lost in Peter's hair. Then her gaze drifted to the clock. Hand sinking on his head, she saddened.

"Well...it's...late. I promised to be home by midnight. So...I suppose... I'd best be -"

"Hey!" Abruptly, Peter exploded into smiles. "Hey Wendy! When we're married – do you want kids?"


	74. Chapter 74: Gwendolyn and Michaleen

**Chapter 74: Gwendolyn and Michaleen**

"Kids?" Wendy settled, intrigued by the question. Peter's foot pattered enthusiastically, as if he already knew the answer. "Children?"

"Yeah! You know once the stork comes." Wickedly Peter winked, teasing their abstinence. "I hear storks bring babies."

Wendy blushed. "I'm sorry." she apologized again.

"Quit with the _sorry's_! If you keep saying ' _SORRY_ ' you're getting a SPANK! But seriously – when we're married, do you want kids?"

"Oh so much Peter." Wendy said, visiting a favorite daydream. "So much."

"Great!" Peter jumped, adjusting to his side. Hooking Wendy's shoulders, he prattled. "I love kids! Kids are cool! Think about it – little bitty kids made of little bits of you and little pieces of me! It'll be great! We can tie their little sneakers, read them bedtime stories, take them on roller coaster rides, _buy them a dog_ – !"

"Dog?"

"Oh yeah, forgot! We're getting a dog! You like dogs?"

"I love dogs."

Peter celebrated. "Me too! I've never had one, but I've always wanted a huge, fluffy, friendly dog! You know, a dog that's big as a bear, one our kids could ride!"

"Like a Newfoundland?" Wendy suggested, eager to participate in Peter's make-pretend. "Or Saint Bernard?"

"Yeah! Perfect, either will do! How many you want?"

"Dogs?"

"Kids."

"Oh. Well..." Dreamily, Wendy drew on the ceiling. "At _least_ two. A girl. And a boy."

"My thoughts exactly." Peter guided her arm in circles. "And I've got the perfect names."

Wendy smiled. "Oh have you?"

"Yup! Get a load of these..." Gracefully, Peter spelled with her finger. "Peter and Wendy."

"Oh Peter." Wendy turned. They grazed noses. "Oh Peter, no."

"Why not?" Peter laughed, tapping her chin. "Junior and junior! The boy we'll name Peter, the girl we'll name Wendy!"

"Well I _gathered_ that."

"Ya see?!" Triumphantly, Peter scrolled their names into the air. "Peter and Wendy! Love it! Deal?"

Wendy squirmed, dithering between pleasing Peter and her personal inclinations. " _Both_ of our names? Peter that seems a bit conceited."

"I _am_ conceited!"

"Peter..."

"Hear how nicely they ring," Peter flourished. " _Peter_ and _Wendy_! You can practically hear wind-chimes when I say them! They're perfect! Ambrosia my dear! Ambrosia!"

"Oh Peter..." Wendy erased the pretend letters as he re-scripted. "I don't know...it's just... _both_?"

"Wendy – " Peter begged. "You HAVE to give me Peter!"

"Well I _like_ the name Peter." Wendy admitted, although she still clung to her misgivings. "But how would we know who was who? What if I called and both of you answered?"

"Call him Pete!" Peter replied. "It makes sense – a little Peter, so you shorten it to Pete! Listen: _Come here Pete! Lunch time Pete! Stop throwing water balloons at Rat Tail, Pete_! Okay?"

Wendy consented. There was no use arguing - he'd just crave it more. "Alright. Peter the second, it is."

"You mean Pete."

"Oh certainly. Pete."

"Yes! Hurrah! Awesome! Okay – I got the first name, so you can choose the middle name! Whaddah like?" Peter offered a selection. "John? Michael? Peter again? Ha ha! Hey - I'll even give you Rat Tail! Just not Jim. _PLEASE_ not Jim."

Wendy hesitated. Until Peter's comment she hadn't even considered ' _Peter James_ ,' and was repentant that Jimhadn't made her list of namesakes.

Guilt aside, Wendy _still_ didn't favor ' _James Pleiades_ ' or ' _Jim_.' At least, not for her future children. First, Jim suited his name too well to pass ownership. Second, _Pleiades_ : _Oh_ d _ear. THAT was a mouthful_. And third...

"Well..." Wendy toyed with her bathrobe. "There is _one_ name that I like. It's similar to Michael. Just... romanticized."

Peter perked. "Oooo. _Nontraditional_. That's unexpected. Okay, what is it?"

Shyly, Wendy looked away. "It's silly."

"Ha! Yeah it probably is, but you're not getting out of this! Come on pretty girl!" Peter rolled her over by the sash. "Tell you what – no questions asked! I got my Peter, so you get the middle name! Whatever you want, no questions asked! So come on – what is it?"

Ruefully, Wendy grimaced. "Michaleen."

"Micha – HA!" Peter howled. " _Michaleen_?! You're kidding?!"

"Well it sounds lovely!" Wendy defended, walloping him with the pillow. She ducked as he flounced it back. "Very impish. Leprechaunish. And they fit well together, just listen. _Peter Michaleen_. See? Peter Michaleen."

Flopping over her, Peter shouted into Wendy's stomach. "Ya hear that, son?! We're calling you Peter Michaleen! Sorry little guy, it's your mother's fault!"

Wendy laughed. Wrestling Peter, she asked. "What about the girl?"

"You're nixing Wendy?" Peter propped on an elbow. "For real?"

"I'm afraid so."

"Bummer. I love the name Wendy. So pretty. Okay, _fine_." Peter scratched his head, thinking. "What about...hmmm...how about...?"

Suddenly Peter paused. Almost reverently, he turned.

"What about Mary?"

Wendy felt her mother smile from heaven. _Mary. Peter wanted a little Mary; He wanted a little girl named after her mother._

"Oh...oh Peter." Overwhelmed with love, Wendy curled into Peter's arms. "Thank you. Peter that was...thank you."

"Well?" Very pleased with himself, Peter smiled. "Do you like it? I mean it's not _Wendy_. But it's just as special."

Wendy reflected, Peter's heartbeat drumming inside her ear. Remembering her mother, and envisioning Mary's gravestone engraving ( _Mary G Darling_ ), she pondered aloud:

"Well. I like Mary. I do. And it means so much that you offered. But...I think we can compromise. You see, I was named for my mother."

"Wendy Moria Angela Darling?" Peter frowned. "I'm missing the _Mary_ part."

"No." Wendy corrected, lifting from his chest. "No, no. My mother's name was Mary Gwendolyn Darling. _Gwendolyn_."

Shrugging bashfully, Wendy explained. "Gwendolyn is long for Wendy."

Peter glowed. Wendy withheld further convincing; he was already persuaded.

"Gwendolyn." Unhurriedly Peter pronounced the three syllables, tasting each one. "Gwendolyn. My little Gwendolyn. Wendy...aw _Wendy_!"

He opened both arms. "It's _perfect_!"

Wendy snuggled beside him. "Now _you_ can have the middle name."

"Already got it." Peter said. Poetically, he swept the sky." _Gwendolyn Mary Moria_. Beautiful. Perfect. So...our kids."

Peter nodded at two invisible children by their feet. "Wendy, may I introduce you to our children. Peter Michaleen and Gwendolyn Mary Moria Darlin—"

"—Pan."

Peter faltered. Stunned, he tilted from Wendy, certain he'd misheard.

Wendy smiled. Kissing his cheek, she repeated. " _Pan_. Peter Michaleen and Gwendolyn Mary Moria Pan."

Peter...well...

Peter wept.

When Wendy asked why, Peter couldn't answer. The reason was too profound, too precious to be explained. But, put simply, Peter Pan was alone. He was nobody. Nothing. He was a lost spirit, free as the wind but equally alone in the wide world. He was homeless. He was without ancestry.

And there was no one to carry his name. Peter was the soul Pan. To his knowledge, there was no one to bear his name into his future, to extend his legacy, to...live forever.

So, that Wendy was taking his name...that she was proudly and wholeheartedly becoming a Pan...

Well. _That_ was Wendy's gift. And it was irreplaceable. It meant more to Peter than he could _ever_ describe.

Peter held Wendy to his heart.

"Can we get married already?"

Wistfully, Wendy rubbed his hair. "I wish it had been already."

"Yeah. Me too... hey Wendy?"

"Yes?"

"Let's get married tomorrow."

She froze. " _Tomorrow_?"

"How hard could it be?" Excitement growing, Peter gushed over Wendy's protests. "We'll be at a wedding anyway – Arthur and Elsa's! We'll just be next in line! It'll be great! Tomorrow, we'll buy you a dress, I'll borrow Aladdin's tux!We'll get flowers, bells, rings, doves, yatta, yatta, yatta. Everyone will be there, I wanted a big wedding anyway! We walk up to the preacher, hold hands, say _I do – you do – we do_...THEN..."

He pinched her bottom.

"Then we'll _do the do_! Ha ha!All we'll have left is happily ever after! Mr. and Mrs. Pan! It's perfect! It's great! We could ACTUALLY DO THIS! _Wendy_ – "

Peter levitated, unable to contain his happiness. "Wendy – tomorrow, we can get married! Tomorrow we can be husband and wife! Wendy tomorrow – _we will be a family_!"

Peter sparkled like a firework.

He dimmed as Wendy declined.

"Peter...I don't think...I don't think that's a good idea."

"You...you don't?" Peter sank to the bed. Heartbroken, he searched Wendy's downcast eyes. "Wendy. Wendy why? Don't you want to marry me?"

" _Of course_ I do." Wendy said. Wretchedly, she smoothed a stray curl. "But it's more complicated than that. Peter we'd have to tell our families."

"I don't have a family."

"Well – "

"And you've got what? A stepmom, two brothers? We can tell them tomorrow, I won't let you do it alone. I'll be right there with you –"

"I have three." Sharply, Wendy looked up. Her eyes were glassy, unstable. "Peter I have three brothers."

Peter flinched. Bitterly he remembered the dreamcatcher, infected with Jim's golden earring.

He felt poisoned.

" Tail."

There was nothing else to say. Wendy understood Peter's feelings, she read his thoughts:

 _Jim divided them._ It was an unspoken truth, one that Wendy recognized but was unwilling to accept.

Thus far, Peter had avoided an ultimatum. He had tolerated Jim, poked fun at his existence. But Peter was tired of the games and suspicious of Jim's intentions. Jim was no longer Wendy's best friend; he was the other man. Therefore, Jimwas a threat. Soon, _very soon_ , Peter would make Wendy decided. He would demand: _Jim or Me._ It was that simple.

But for now...

"I think..." Peter swallowed his anger. _God. He hated being grownup. A temper tantrum seemed SO much more appropriate._ "I think...we better talk about this tomorrow morning. I don't want Rat Tail on my mind when I fall asleep. . We'll talk about it tomorrow."

"Peter." Wendy implored. "I'm sorry. Really I'm so sor –"

" _Wup, wup, wup!_ What was that, missy?" Peter cupped his ear. "Did you just say the S WORD? Did you just say I'M SORRY?"

"Um."

"Well, there you have it." Peter slung Wendy over his knee. "Repercussions! Here comes the spank!"

" _What_?" Wendy wriggled across the mattress as Peter raised his hand. "Wait Peter, I'm sorry I didn't – !"

It ended in squeals, giggles, and lots of spanks. (More spanks, Wendy argued, than she deserved). Energized, they romped through the house, feasted on Gushers, kissed for dessert, and as the clock ticked a quarter to eleven...

"Peter." Wendy untangled Peter's fingers from her hair. "It's late. I need to go home."

"I know." Gently, Peter curled behind her. Arms woven and feet intertwined, they lay perfectly paired. "I'll take you home. It'll be fast to fly. Just five minutes...you're leaving me tomorrow... just give me five more minutes..."

Five minutes turned to ten. Ten turned to twenty. Twenty turned into droopy lids and deep, sleepy breaths...

"Peter." Wendy whispered. "I'm falling asleep."

"Yeah." Peter breathed. "Me too."

"...I'm still here..."

Peter stroked her cheek."It's nice, huh?"

Wendy brushed his hand. Fingers interweaving, she asked:

"Why can't this last forever?"

Peter opened his eyes. Fingers interlaced with hers, he found the Wishing Star, twinkling in the darkest corner of the sky.

"It will be." Peter vowed. "We will be together. And it will be forever. I'm not leaving Fantasia without you this time."

Softly, Wendy smiled.

"...promise?"

"Promise."

Wendy sighed. She knew it was false. But it was a wonderful dream.

"Peter?"

"Yes, Wendy?

"I love you."

Peter knew he should return her words.

But, as Wendy wilted into dreamland, a part of him wondered...

...if Wendy loved him...if she _truly_ , _unfathomably_ , and _unconditionally_ loved him...

Then why _wasn't_ she ready?

The question had a dark, disgusting answer.

"Sorry Rat Tail..." Rotating, Peter grappled for the clock. He yanked, ripping the cord. As the time blinked out, he pressed Wendy like a shield over his heart.

"Tonight, she's mine."

* * *

...

* * *

 **sultal's note:**

 **Pronunciation: Michaleen = MICK -A - LEEN.**

 **song recommended by Big4girl, Peter's POV. Perfect song! ("Why Don't You Love Me?" Hot Chelle Rae).**


	75. Chapter 75: Look Under The Bed

**Chapter 75: Look Under The Bed**

 _Her dream started with Tinkerbell._

 _The pixie's eyes reflected white as she grinned at the foot of the bed. Wings shimmering, Tinkerbell crawled over Peter, licking, kissing, and pleasuring his desires._

 _Wendy screamed when Peter returned the pixie's embrace._

 _Tinkerbell giggled obscenities as she cried. Fighting invisible forces, Wendy wrenched for Peter but stuck to the mattress. She called his name but he did not hear. She prayed he would remember her, but the angels laughed at her plea._

 _Peter smiled into Tinkerbell. Tinkerbell squealed._

 _Suddenly, the mattress beneath Peter decayed. Peter and Tinkerbell sunk under the bed, but their affections intensified. Tinkerbell taunted Wendy to follow, to chase them under the bed._

 _The invisible restraints disappeared. Sluggishly, Wendy climbed from the bed and fell. The fall seemed a thousand miles. It was terrifying._

 _She hit the floor. Her bones shattered. Blood milked her skin, soaked her nightgown._

 _Brutalized she turned, cheek scraping the floor._

 _She looked under the bed._

 _But she did not see Tinkerbell. Or Peter._

 _She saw a monster. She saw The Boogie Man._

 _The Boogie Man grinned._

 _"Boo." he said, splashing nightmares into her mind._

* * *

 **...**

* * *

Wendy was sobbing when Peter awoke.

"Wendy?"

Stumbling for the light switch, Peter grazed Wendy's cheek. He flinched. Wendy was _sweltering._ Her skin set his fingers on fire!

Foregoing the light, Peter threw the covers. Working nimbly through Wendy's unconscious struggle, he unfastened her sash, fished her from the bathrobe, and carried her to the window.

"Dreamcatcher." Heart racing, Peter cradled Wendy on the ledge. The night shivered with early autumn frost. Wafting the cold air, he beckoned Wendy from her nightmare. "Wake up Wendy. Come on little shadow worker, beat the nightmare. Wake up...wake up...wake up..."

Wendy shot upright. Peter jumped as her eyes burst open, revealing black innards wet with tears. Stuttering incoherently, she warned people to run, for her brothers to hide, for Jim to escape, for Ariel to help, for Arthur to look up, for Peter to believe her, for Tinkerbell to stop –

Peter straightened. _Tinkerbell_?

"Wendy!" Supporting her head, Peter shook harder. "Wendy wake up! Right now! Wendy it's me! It's Peter! Wendy – "

Something happened. Peter felt the strings of Skyworld snap. The wind dropped like a guillotine. Clouds splintered. A ripple heaved through space as the Wishing Star throbbed.

Mindlessly Wendy thrashed. She clung to Peter, spluttering a slurry of words. The rhetoric was vaguely _familiar_ , but too swift for Peter to catch.

" _Twinkletwinklelittlestarshineuponanancientscartwolandsbothangrybrotherslaughasonekillstheothertwinkletwinklelittlestarwatchthemperishfromafartwinkletwinklelittlelightcrippleddragonlostinflightasecondcripplewilltrainsotheswordmaybereclaimedtwinkletwinklelittlelightpeaceliesinfuriousnighttwinkletwinklelittlestarhatredstainsblackastarallforoneandoneforallunitedwestanddividedwefalltwinkletwinklelittlestarembraceinfullwhatyoubartwinkletwinklelittlelightthissequelpullsonyourplightthebreakthatoncewasamendwillandmustbebrokenagaintwinkletwinklelittlelightspittingthroughthedarkestnighttwinkletwinklelittlestarthenisnearfutureisfartostallevilandpeacemendpastmustbepresentagaintwinkletwinklelittlethinghailtheonceandfutureking –"_

"Stop!" Summoning the Skyworld, Peter seized the wind and pushed. The atmosphere lurched – creaked –

And calmed.

Wendy choked. Blackness faded from her eyes. She coughed. As she woke the coughs turned violent. Bracing her forehead, Peter leaned Wendy over the window, fearful she would vomit. Mercifully she was spared. But as the nightmare subsided, Wendy collapsed. She could scarcely whisper.

"...peter..."

"I'm here." Carefully, Peter returned Wendy to bed. Maintaining immediate contact, he retrieved the linens and slid beside her. "I've got ya. It was just a nightmare. Here..."

Delicately, Peter smoothed her cheek. She still burned, but the touch was soothing.

"Just rest. Everything is okay..." He kissed her forehead, breathing cool air onto her skin. "I'll protect you."

Faintly, Wendy cried. "Can you look under the bed?"

"Huh?"

"Can you look under the bed?"

Peter did, although he thought it a strange, childish request. Still, as he crouched, Peter was haunted. The bed's underside was shadowy. Dark. Black.

Pitch black.

"Nothing." Instincts screaming, Peter scrambled upright. His toes curled as he leapt into bed. Clinging Wendy for her safety as much as his own, Peter wrapped one arm about her waist and the other under her head. "No monsters under the bed."

She trembled. "Are you sure?"

"Yes." Peter hesitated. "No monsters. Just...shadows."

Wendy recoiled inside him. "I'm scared."

Helplessly Peter watched the nightmares drag Wendy back to sleep.

"Me too."


	76. Chapter 76: Man To Man

**Chapter 76: Man To Man**

At 12:00 am Jim was waiting.

At 12:01 am Jim was nervous.

At 3:00 am Jim was frantic.

At 5:00 am he was at Ariel's front door.

"Come on, come on, _come on_." Urgently Jim knocked, pausing only to throttle the doorbell. "Get up, get up, get the hell up –"

The door opened. Jim looked down. Petty Officer Sebastian scowled back.

"Where is Admiral Triton?" Jim demanded. "I need to speak with him. Now."

Sebastian was unhelpful. And rude.

"Definitely not. If da Admiral sees you, he will chain you to the bottom of the sea – "

" _I don't care_!" Jim snarled, voice rising. "This is not about me and it's not about Ariel! My sister is missing, she may be in trouble, so if Admiral Triton is in there then you _god damn better_ haul his –"

"Before I tan yours – " Admiral Triton appeared with the scent of black coffee. " _Be quiet_."

Jim obeyed, but only long enough for Admiral Triton to dismiss Sebastian. The admiral looked strangely relaxed without his naval jacket and gold epaulettes, but his speech was nonetheless militaristic.

"I ordered _you_ to keep away from my daughter –"

"Wendy is missing!" Jim blurted, causing Admiral Triton's eyebrows to raise. "She wasn't home at midnight, I know she met Peter, I waited all night, she said she would come home but she didn't, where do Rapunzel and Flynn live?"

Normally, Admiral Triton would have absorbed every detail. A seasoned naval officer _and_ father of seven girls, he habitually cataloged useless information.

However, Jim's _actual_ motives conflicted with Admiral Triton's original presumptions. He was caught off guard. Moreover, it was 5 o'clock in the morning. No one stirred this early. Well, no one except the admiral himself.

"Repeat?" Admiral Triton said.

Jim burst. "Wendy! My sister! She's a little girl, blue eyes, blue bow, curly hair, small, impressionable, defenseless, and she's somewhere in Center-Point Sector with Peter Pan – !"

"First rule in a crisis – " Admiral Triton drew Jim inside. "— _stay calm._ It has been my observance that you usually do until the matter strikes your emotions. Infantile. And dangerous. Even in matters of heart _– stay calm_. It is in _those_ emergencies where order is lost swiftest, but needed most. Now – "

Steering Jim into a warm kitchenette, Admiral Triton pointed to a chair, directing him to sit. As the admiral donned his naval jacket, Jim noticed family photos intermingled with nautical décor.

"Now." Admiral Triton sat across Jim. "Miss Darling is missing. Give me the facts, and facts only. When did she leave?"

It was _bizarre_. After years of _countless_ conflicts Admiral Triton had _instantaneously_ tapped into Jim's understanding. The admiral was concise, exigent, alert, industrious, and demanding - every trait Jim exercised naturally. In Jim's urgency, their language filter had dissolved; the two men were completely synchronized.

"Yesterday." Jim replied. "Early evening."

"To see Mister Pan?"

"Yes."

"Alone?"

"Yes."

"Where?"

"Rapunzel and Flynn's house – Center Point Sector."

"Corona Avenue." Admiral Triton automatically said, mentally navigating the Fantasian metropolis. (Flynn was under constant government surveillance). "Tower 111. Now, tell me - _Wait! Halt! Hold!_ Hawkins, _sit down_!"

Jim flumped as Admiral Triton wrenched him back to the chair. He'd been halfway to the door. "I only needed directions!"

"What _you_ need is solid year in boot camp." Admiral Triton retorted. "Breaking and entering is a serious offense, one that your _vibrant_ record could not withstand, Fantasian guardian or not. If you are going to break the law you _had better_ have convincing motivation. _Criminal necessity_ is needed for you to act upon your instincts, so – "

Stringently, Admiral Triton continued. "You set Miss Darling's curfew at twelve o'clock?"

 _Curfew. A 'dad-word_.' Jim knew Admiral Triton understood, if not sympathized.

"Yes. Midnight."

"And this was explicit?"

Jim growled. " _Very_."

Admiral Triton paused. He regarded Jim sternly. But when he spoke, the admiral's tone had changed. It had become _sickened_. Nauseated. Flat.

"And you assume Mister Pan has ill intentions."

It was not a question. It was not a statement.

It was a shared fear.

Stomach writhing, Jim croaked. " _Had_ ill intentions."

From his next deployment, Jim _knew_ Admiral Triton sympathized.

"Petty Officer Sebastian, send my apologies to Agent Bubbles, I will be delayed. Tell him to continue with King Arthur's wedding inspections as planned."

Continuing, Admiral Triton stood. "Contact Captain Amelia, I want a patrol car parked on my doorstep _by the hour_. Full equipment consoles and CTTV system. Understood?"

Sebastian saluted from his hideout. "Aye, aye Admiral! On the double!"

"Good. And you, Hawkins –" En route for the door, Admiral Triton rest a hand on Jim's shoulder. "—stay. _Do not move_ from this spot. Whatever _has_ or _has not_ happened will not change within the hour. An act of heroism, however well intent, will only exacerbate this situation. _Stay calm_. _Do not_ lose your head. And..."

Admiral Triton meditated before speaking. But when he did, Jim felt a compassionate squeeze.

"You were _wise_ to seek help. Miss Darling is fortunate. Now..." Briskly Admiral Triton departed. " _Stay_."

 _Wise? Fortunate?_ Admiral Triton's compliment resonated. Jim was honored. A bit.

But he was _not_ reassured.

Jim waited three seconds for Admiral Triton to disappear.

"Fortunate my ass! I swear to god if he's hurt her – "

Memorizing Rapunzel and Flynn's address, Jim bolted from the Triton Mansion.

He collided with Ariel.

 _Hey! Wow!_ Ariel beamed. Scrunching a fishtail braid, she gestured to her pajamas. _I was just getting ready to go see you! Great timing – WAIT!?_

Ariel blinked. She gaped between Jim and her father's ritual morning retreat. _How are you here ALIVE? Are..._

Concerned, Ariel reached. She suddenly noticed. Jim was sweating.

 _Jim what's wrong?_

"Gotta go –!" Swiftly embracing, Jim ran for the door. "Wen never came home last night, your dad gave me directions to Rapunzel and Flynn's house, and I _swear_ if Peter has her – _Hey_! _Ariel_?!"

Jim stumbled as Ariel seized his shirt. Twisting bewilderedly, he grabbed her wrist.

"What are you –?"

Ariel blubbered so vehemently, even Jim had difficulty interpreting her lips. But as she fired confessions, explanations, and assurances, Jim's heart fell from his chest.

" _She what_?"


	77. Chapter 77: Fury in the Slaughterhouse

**Chapter 77: Fury in the Slaughterhouse**

Peter had never snuggled before, at least not with a girl. As a rule, Peter never ' _slept with'_ a lady unless sex was involved, and it was _never_ overnight.

But as he awoke, Peter discovered –

-he LOVED snuggling!

A sun ray smeared Peter's face. Curling around Wendy's warm little body, he nuzzled her hair and inhaled. _Ooooooooo. What was that scent? Some sort of flower? Sweat pea? Violet? Whatever, English garden – it was intoxicating._

"Hey. Sleepy head..."

Gently, Peter kissed Wendy's ear. She stirred but did not wake, shifting only for a dreamy sigh.

Peter smiled victoriously. As promised, he _had_ protected Wendy from her nightmares. Following the first _grand mal_ nightmare, Peter instinctively discovered the secret antidote: _touch_. Wendy responded to intimacy. For some reason, a tender embrace killed nightmares swiftly as a dreamcather.

So, Peter's job was simple: _kiss, hug, repeat_. Straightaway, Wendy's nightmares trickled into harmless whimpers. Wendy slept in peace and Peter _thoroughly_ enjoyed himself. It was heaven-sent.

All in all, Peter was incredibly gratified. He felt fantastic! Tremendous! Invincible! His smile was cha-cha-cha-ing, and his heart was break-dancing to a magical beat!

True, they hadn't been intimate but Peter felt _fabulously_ closer to Wendy. They were _inseparable_ and it was _exciting_!

Peter squeezed Wendy. Their bodies squished and the feeling made him giddy! Deliriously happy, Peter kissed Wendy twice - one kiss for each of their future children.

"Michaleen _._ She's naming my son _Michaleen._ " Chuckling, Peter circled Wendy's stomach. Dreaming about her rosy body beneath pink fabric, he breathed. "Crazy. Crazy girl...Who would have thought...Michaleen..."

His voice drifted. His eyelids drooped.

Then Peter's ears pricked. He heard something. Something outside.

Senses heightened, Peter listened.

The front door opened. Shut. Opened again. Shut. Footsteps shuffled in-between. Someone thundered upstairs. _Who could it be -?_

 _Oh. Duh._ Peter calmed. _It's Flynn. He left us alone last night. What a champ. What a bro. He and Punz must be back._

Ears relaxing, Peter drew the coverlet over their heads, just in case Flynn decided to invade. Wendy would undoubtedly panic that she'd overslept; she'd probably die if Flynn violated her modesty.

 _Ha._ Peter felt deliciously evil. _Wendy broke the rules. No, Wendy annihilated the rules. When Wendy woke up, she was going to explode. Adorable._

 _Well_ Peter reasoned, _They were both in trouble! Might as well snuggle!_

Peter made himself comfortable. As the doorknob rattled, he cuddled into Wendy.

Then the door shattered.

The covers ripped away.

Two hands clenched his throat.

Jim hurled Peter from bed. "Get _off_ her!"

Peter dragged Wendy halfway across the mattress before letting go. Flung sideways, he stumbled, hit the wall –

And Jim attacked. He yanked Peter upright, tore back a fist and punched.

Wendy woke to Peter's shout. Jerking over, she stared for a disoriented second before the truth slaughtered her confusion.

"No! NO! Jim! Jim what are -?" Wendy scrambled into the crossfire. Peter's blood squirted as Jim slammed him viciously into the wall. " _Jim what are you doing_? Stop! St –!"

Suddenly Wendy reeled backwards, arm popping in its socket. Tripping, she sprawled as Ariel yanked her from danger.

"No!" Wendy thrashed, twisting Ariel's wrist to break free. Desperately, she seized Jim's forearm. "No, no, no! Jim! Stop! STOP! Jim – !"

"You asshole!" With astounding ferocity, Jim ripped from Wendy. His fist flew, splitting Peter's lip. "You piece of shit how DARE you!"

Peter spluttered pink lather. He lurched, trying to fly. "WHAT?"

Jim was hysterical.

"You know she's lonely!" Peter rasped as Jim punched, out of control. "You know she's been thinking of you for six years! You know she's sad! You know she's scared! You – "

Jim cut Peter to pieces. "HOW DARE YOU F HER!"

"JIM!" Somehow Wendy plunged between them. Leaning into Jim with all her strength, she pushed. "Jim it was me! I came here! Peter didn't ask, I DID! And we didn't! We didn't do anything –"

"Don't tell him that!" Peter growled, mouth black with blood. "It's NONE of his business!"

Jim grappled for Peter. "She is my business!"

"Then maybe we should have a threesome!"

" _Son of a bitch_!"

Jim charged but Peter was ready. He stabbed a knee into Jim's chest, cracking his ribs. Ariel intercepted as Peter struck again. Her trident hit Peter's windpipe, razing him with electricity.

"Stop it!" Wendy heaved Jim across the floor. As he staggered upright, she cried. "Everyone JUST STOP FIGHTING –"

Jim lashed. "Go home Wendy!"

"Jim!" Wendy begged. "Stop, just stop! I came here! It not him, it was me! Peter and I –"

"Go home!"

"But we didn't do anyth – "

"Go!"

"Jim NO you're not listeni –"

"WENDY!" Jim grabbed. Driving Wendy across the room, he roared. "GO HOME!"

The air rung. Peter's dagger sliced by Jim's ear, embedding between the door and frame.

Wendy hit the panel. Jim rammed against her as Peter screamed.

"WE ARE ENGAGED!"


	78. Chapter 78: Never Come Back

**song: part 2 of "Love The Way You Lie" (Rhianna ft Eminem). A** **riana Grande cover version is pretty good too. Just make sure it's the 2ND PART. Chpt rated T for language. Promise it will be the worst one.**

 **...**

* * *

 **Chapter 78: Never Come Back**

Wendy never forgot the way Jim looked at her.

Betrayed. Beyond recognition.

Somewhere in the background Peter was screaming. Ariel was trying to stop him, but her movements were obscured. Jim and Wendy were caught in a separate universe, connected by the bond they'd formed as children.

They held a single gaze.

He asked for the truth without speaking.

She confessed without a word.

Their friendship unraveled as Jim pulled away. He staggered, tripping on a broken promise to stay best friends forever. It was harrowing. Painful. Wendy could almost see her knife in his back.

Wendy reached. Peter's outburst intensified as she touched his shoulder. "Jim – "

"YOU HEAR THAT?!" Peter screamed. "WE'RE ENGAGED! _WENDY AND I ARE ENGAGED_! What the Hell did you think I was doing at the Wishing Star that night?! I was looking for a diamond for her ENGAGEMENT RING! WENDY AND I ARE ENGAGED!"

Jim threw Wendy's hand.

"Since when? Before or after you got her naked?"

" _Jim_!" Wendy repeated, only to be brutally dismissed. As Ariel intercepted her with Peter's bathrobe, Wendy begged. "Jim please _just listen_! I can explain –"

"I can explain!" Peter snarled, wiping his mouth. A trail of bloody saliva followed. "Wendy and I have been engaged for SIX YEARS! _SIX_! I proposed right after The Battle to Take Fantasia and BIG SURPRISE – SHE SAID YES! WE ARE ENGAGED!"

Jim spun, facing Wendy. " _Is this true_?"

" _You didn't know_?" Peter laughed. It was acidic. It was cruel. It was smug and fierce. "Ha! HA! You didn't know! _She didn't tell you!_ Well sucks to be JUST the best friend, huh _Jim dear_?"

"Best friend my – "

Ariel stabbed her trident before Jim could finish. She yelled furiously at him, squeezing Wendy to emphasize the silent rebuke. Jim countered with a lethal, inhuman noise before returning to Peter.

"Fine! You're engaged – she gets what she deserves! So instead of trashing her before you go F some Skyworld tramp – "

"Jim!" Wendy shouted.

Jim shouted louder. "Why don't you marry her?"

"That is _actually_ a _great_ question!" Peter jabbed at Wendy. "How about you ask her? Your EX BEST FRIEND?! Maybe THIS TIME she'll tell you!"

"You son of a – !"

"Stop it!" Wendy struggled against Ariel, bathrobe slipping over her shoulders. Ariel was mouthing, _pleading_ Wendy to withhold but her warnings were ignored. "Stop it both of you! Jim I'm sorry it just happened –"

"You're _sorry_?" Peter recoiled, absolutely revolted. " _It just happened_? I ask to _marry you_ and you're _sorry_ because _it just happened_?"

"That's not what I said!" Wendy objected, tears welling. The lights dimmed. Her eyes flickered black. "That's not what I meant, you know that I –"

"Then what _did_ you mean?" Peter demanded. "Or is _I love you Peter_ translation for _I love Jim_?"

" _WHAT_?" Wendy shrieked, completely stunned. Jim had reacted similarly, but Wendy overpowered his rage. "WHAT? How can you – you – _WHAT?_!"

"We heard you!" Peter barked. Blood smattered his lips as Ariel advanced. "Ariel and I heard you the other night! Remember? That night you caught them having sex? The night you FREAKED?! Ariel and I were outside the window, we HEARD IT ALL!"

Peter plowed through Ariel. "SO why don't you want them sleeping together, Wendy? HUH? Why'd your panties get all in a twist? Wish Rat Tail wanted yours instead of Ariel's?"

"You fucking -!"" Jim yelled over Wendy. "You are dead I am going to kill – !"

Ariel shoved Peter before Jim could strike. Incensed, Peter attacked Ariel with arguments. Dynamite blew from his lungs with each accusation.

"Why not Ariel? YOU HEARD! Why do you think Jim doesn't want me touching Wendy, huh? Why the big deal? I proposed, I want her – SO WHY DOES HE CARE? Why does he come here and rip us apart? Why does he punch me INSTEAD OF ERIC? THINK ABOUT THAT ARIEL?! THINK ABOUT THAT?!"

Wildly, Peter gestured. "They live together!"

"Peter!" Wendy sprinted. Jim grabbed but she wrenched away. "Peter stop – "

"They live ONE room apart!"

"Peter!"

"They are probably fucking each other every night!"

"STOP IT!" Wendy sobbed, hitting Peter's chest. "STOP IT! STOP IT! STOP IT!"

Peter seized her face and screamed. "THEN WHY WON'T YOU MARRY ME?"

The moment ruptured. The detonation left a scar in Time.

Ariel slammed her trident. Electricity gnawed through each guardian, overthrowing their bodies with violent currents. But Ariel's onslaught only paused their battle; it did not eradicate. The hatred spread, sinking into their souls.

"Ariel –" Grotesquely bent, Jim stumbled to Ariel as she fled. "Ariel wait – "

Ariel struck Jim with her trident, forcing him back. Catching the shaft, Jim pulled as Ariel clenched her stomach, pointed, mouthed, and cried in silence.

Jim watched. His eyes flicked, reading her lips.

Suddenly he roared. "That's not true! I do! You KNOW I do! Don't listen to him! DON'T! Ariel – !"

A police siren fired outside, startling Jim long enough for Ariel to escape.

Blindly, Wendy followed. She pushed upright, faltered for the door –

Then Peter grabbed.

"Don't!" Fist entirely around her arm he yanked. "Get back here!"

Jim stopped, halfway out the door. "Get your hands off –"

"He wants a reason to be mad?!" Peter hurled Wendy onto the bed. Clawing her slip he growled. "Then we'll give him a reason to be mad!"

"Son of a bitch!" Jim leapt, arm locked around Peter's throat. Wendy buckled, falling from the bed and running sightlessly as Peter screamed.

"FINE! GO ON! GO! BUT ONCE YOU LEAVE – IT'S OVER! ONCE YOU LEAVE YOU CAN NEVER COME BACK! DO YOU HEAR ME?! NEVER!"

Wendy ran, crying uncontrollably as Peter and Jim exploded.

If they killed each other, she didn't care.


	79. Chapter 79: The Hardest Ache

**Chapter 79: The Hardest Ache**

Admiral Triton deferred an explanation. He hadn't one to give. Bypassing Sarah Hawkins with a harsh forewarning and stern hand, he climbed the stairs to Wendy's bedroom.

The journey was unsettling: as he ascended Admiral Triton felt like he was sinking into Hell. Each upward step was colder, heavier. Colors wasted to grey. Light became thin, frail. And as he neared Wendy's bedroom, Admiral Triton lost his mind. Momentarily. His shadow tremored. His memories turned into a sewage of phobias and broken dreams.

Admiral Triton staggered. Then somehow he reached...and doused the lights.

As the hallway dimmed, his shadow faded into the darkness. The memories followed.

Admiral Triton exhaled. Dousing the lights had been a gamble, but a logical one: After all, a shadow worker cannot work without shadows. So kill the lights. Dilute the shadows. Weaken the shadow worker. Proceed with care.

It worked. Shadow hidden from Wendy's invisible pull, Admiral Triton regained his senses but continued nonetheless cautiously to her bedroom. He paused at her door. The air felt...coarse. Injured. Like someone had shred the atmosphere to strips. It almost hurt to breathe.

Admiral Triton entered, knowing he could never imagine the horrors inside. He was right. The room was a hellhole. It was an empty grave, damp with tears and ugly as sin. His shadow screamed, straining immediately towards the little girl curled by the open window.

Wendy. The shadow hit her and she flinched, recoiling at Admiral Triton's memories. Knotted in a bedsheet she turned, eyes in her knees and arms in her heart. And although she was bent, Wendy remained facing the window – as if she were praying someone would appear.

Again, Admiral Triton removed the lights. Fighting lingering nightmares, he approached, knelt before Wendy –

-then he noticed her bedsheet. The white linen was stained, as if she were crying black ink. There was a thick smear beneath her eyes, and oily trails streaking the fabric. Unable to see Wendy's eyes and fearing the stain was blood, Admiral Triton forced two fingers under her chin. His memories stung, but he pushed them away.

Firmly coaxing Wendy upwards, he studied. Her cheeks were dirty, smudged with black. Her eyes were closed, and she sobbed painfully as he demanded:

"Open."

She did, after a second command. Unable to withhold his disgust, Admiral Triton sat back.

Wendy's eyes were black. Entirely. They were black, soggy, glistening balls, drenched with inky tears.

Admiral Triton had observed this metamorphoses before - Wendy's eyes had turned black at King Arthur's Round Table meeting. But this transmutation was different. Unlike the instance at King Arthur's meeting, when her eyes had burned to black coals, Wendy's eyes were _sore_. Sore and bleeding black tears, as if her unhappy thoughts were leaking.

Admiral Triton released. As Wendy buried into the bedsheet, he softly spoke.

"You spent the night away. In the company of Mister Pan."

Black tears leaked between her fingers, soiling the linen. Wendy's sadness stirred his foulest memories but Admiral Triton continued.

"You shared a bed?"

She wept, making an indistinct sound. Uncertain whether her response was an affirmation or denial, Admiral Triton asked.

"Do I need to take you to the hospital?"

He waited. She did not answer. Gently, Admiral Triton rest a hand upon her head. Memories of Athena, his dear wife, throbbed but Admiral Triton maintained contact. Pressing Wendy's hair, he repeated.

"Wendy."

She trembled. But finally, wretchedly –

"...n...o."

Admiral Triton sighed.

"Then." he said, relief hardening to solemnity. "Could you explain why Misters Pan and Hawkins are in jail? And why my daughter...has returned to sea?"

She couldn't. But the idea, the monster that their friendship had become, was too terrible to endure.

Admiral Triton felt the urge to run before she gave the warning.

"...i...can't...st...op...them..." The shadows collapsed. Unable to prevent the exorcism, Wendy gasped. "...go!"

Admiral Triton obeyed, locking the bedroom behind him. He emptied the premise, forcing Sarah, Michael, and John from their home, away from Wendy. There was little to be said. There was little to be done.

The guardians had brought each other heartache; and Admiral Triton knew _that_ was the hardest ache to heal. Fantasia would have to continue: with or without her guardians.

Sinbad watched the police car leave with his wife. He glanced once at Wendy's window. He watched the shadows molest her. He listened as she cried.

"Hang in there Scrimpy." Dropping from the roof, Sinbad trailed the police car. "Gotta get my baby boy out of jail."

* * *

 **...**

 **sultal's note: Speaking of Sinbad, my readers have sent me more songs that remind them of Sinbad than ANY other character, which is kinda cool (without my even asking). Thus far, my favorites have been:**

 **(1) "Bandit" by Blowsight ( sent by sionainn_dancer3)**

 **(2) "El Dorado" by 2Steps from Hell ( sent by Ladyanne23)**

 **SO - I've been compiling all these songs for the "Giving Fantasia Soundtrack." Obvs I will have to pick and choose, but when I post the soundtrack, I will give people credit on the video for recommending the songs I pick.**

 **So, since I'm a music sponge, keep the recommendations coming! Songs can be for characters, relationships (ie Sinbad/Sarah etc), chapters, whatever! Keep sending songs and I'll consider them for the soundtrack! ty.**


	80. Chapter 80: My Baby Boy

**Chapter 80: My Baby Boy**

Screaming. Cursing. Threatening. Roaring –

"Oh great ancestors!" Spinning, Mulan _pinged_ Jim and Peter with her tranquilizer gun. It took two darts in the neck to _finally_ shut them up.

"Make sure they're not dead." Mulan ordered Mushu, her dragon sidekick (and gift from the Wishing Star). Holstering the gun, she glared as Jim and Peter slumped inside their cells.

"Other than that, I don't care. Admiral Triton should arrive with King Arthur and Headmaster Mickey by sunset – I hope you're ready to suck out that sedative. Jim and Peter need to be awake so they can explain what happened. Defend these charges."

"Leave the nasty work to the dragon!" Mushu slithered into Jim's cell. Jim twitched as Mushu plucked the syringe from his neck, but was otherwise immobile.

Lazily, Mushu flicked the dart's red tailpiece. "Heh heh! Look at him! Look at them! Fantasia's guardians - limp as noodles!"

Mushu laughed, but Mulan did not partake. This whole 'guardian situation' was a disaster, and Agent Bubbles had placed her, Captain Fa Mulan, in charge. Agent Bubble's rational, _"You went to school with them. You clean up this mess."_

Translation: Bubbles didn't want to deal with the drama.

Well neither did Mulan.

"Biggest wedding of the century…pirates skulking Fantasian waters…frost phantom running around... and the guardians decide to explode."

Sourly, Mulan exited the detention block. Providing a thumbprint for the biometric access system, she trudged through the steel doors and into staff headquarters. Ignoring the guards, two vultures named Trigger and Nutsy, she continued to the public lobby to wait for Admiral Triton.

 _Police station. Prison center. Aiya!_ Mulan settled at the front desk. Angling the surveillance screen, she glared at Jim and Peter – unconscious in their cells. _This type of work was SO below her. She was a secret service agent. Not a babysitter._

 _Still…_

Mulan glanced at Admiral Triton's arrest report. There were two copies – one for Peter, one for Jim. Peter's report lay inside a shiny new folder. Jim's report was stacked on a voluminous binder. Mulan was impressed –Jim had _quite_ the criminal record. If it was illegal, Jim already did it.

But _this_ crime was serious. This crime was a killer, for both offenders.

Jim was held for assault and battery. And Peter…for rape.

Mulan's stomach clenched as she fingered Peter's report. Nothing had been verified, Admiral Triton was still investigating the allegation, but Mulan was already biased. Peter had a reputation and as a woman, Mulan was naturally wary. She couldn't help it: rape was disgusting. In her book, an accusation was good enough to convict. It was plenty.

"Either way…" Mulan adjusted her wakizashi blade. "The guardians are all leaving tonight. Guardians. Aiya. Failed system. Oh well." she replaced Peter's report. "Just hope Wendy's okay."

"Ding! Ding! I'm here to bail out the Hawkins kid."

Mulan jumped. A man had approached the desk, strangely without her noticing. That was odd. Mulan was a master of detection. Agent Bubbles had trained her to catch mosquitoes with chopsticks – blindfolded. How had this man snuck up?

And why was he carrying a scimitar?

* * *

… … …

* * *

Police station. Prison. Jail.

Sardonically Sinbad reflected. _No place like home._

"I'm here to bail out the Hawkins kid." Sinbad dug through his pockets. All respectable pirates stashed leftover loot. "What's the charge? Miss….?"

The officer frowned. "Captain." she corrected, watching his hands. As she rose for an improved view, Sinbad noticed a samurai sword and Beretta M418 pistol on her belt. "Captain Fa Mulan."

 _Ooo._ Sinbad stiffened. Nonchalantly continuing his treasure hunt, he pulled a mental fire-alarm. _This chic was not a regular policeman. With weapons like that? No way. She was a threat. He had to be careful._

"Sorry Captain." Sinbad forced a cheesy smile. "Didn't mean to de-rank you. Should have known you weren't a cop. After all…you're not eating a doughnut. Am I right, or am I right?"

Mulan was unamused.

"You're here for Jim Hawkins?"

Sinbad nodded. "Yes ma'am. Captain."

"Why?"

"Bail. Kid's in the can, isn't he?"

"Jim's been arrested, yes." Mulan slid a finger across his report. "Assault and battery. His sentencing is being conducted shortly by the king."

Sinbad's eyes popped. "The _king_?"

"Yes."

"The king of Fantasia is sentencing my so – um – is sentencing Hawkins? Geeze." Sinbad scratched under his bandana. Typically, public misdemeanors were judged by lower courts – but the _king_? The _king_ of _freaking_ Fantasia was ruling Jim's verdict? Wow.

"Geeze." Sinbad repeated, very impressed but a _little_ disappointed. His inner pirate wanted to shake Jim's hand, but his inner father wanted to spank Jim's behind. "Who the heck did he punch? The queen?"

"No." Mulan replied. "He _punched_ Peter Pan, the Skyworld guardian. Guardians are subject to royal protection, so the king is automatically involved with sentencing."

"Kid aims for the fence." Sinbad mused, remembering Pitch's allusion to the Fantasian guardians. Apparently the guardians were all big shots – kudos to Jim for fighting one. _Gutsy. That's daddy's little trooper_.

"Okay, Captain Fa. Back to business." Sinbad returned to his pockets. "How much to bail Hawkins out?"

Mulan half smiled. "You can't afford it."

Sinbad half laughed. "Oh contraire. How much?"

Mulan divulged. Sinbad's mouth actually dropped.

"Because he punched a guardian?! You're kidding? Every striper in the world could retire off that!"

"Jim is a flight risk." Mulan hefted Jim's criminal file for Sinbad to inspect. Staggered, Sinbad leafed through the records as Mulan elucidated. "He's got a history of breaking probation, so the bail is higher. Plus, as you can see, Jim is a repeat offender. Assault… trespassing… reckless driving of unregistered aircraft…"

"Damn solar surfer…" Sinbad muttered. Turning a page, he paused at a mug-shot of Jim, age fifteen. "Is...is this him?"

Mulan affirmed. "Yes. Six years ago."

"Whoa." Captivated, Sinbad lingered on the photograph. Last night he had been so preoccupied with Sarah, he hadn't even considered spying on Jim. And this photo, although it was just an image, was the first Sinbad had seen of Jim in ten years.

It was unnerving. Terrifying.

Jim _looked_ like him. Admittedly Jim was a blend of Sarah, but Jim _looked like him_! Sinbad recognized his every feature. The sharp jaw, jagged cheekbones, sunken eyes, center hair partition, broad shoulders – identical. Sure, Jim's nose and teal eyes were Sarah's, he'd give her that, but overall, Jim was Sinbad.

"Hell…holy hell."

Sinbad glossed a thumb over the photo, almost like he was brushing Jim's hair. And perhaps it was his imagination, but Jim's eyes seemed to smolder. Sinbad peered into the photograph. Jim's face glared back. Angry. Resentful. Hurt.

Hateful.

Sinbad shut the binder.

"I'll pay." Sinbad sprinkled rubies, sapphires, and silver coins across Mulan's stunned gaze. Sweat trickling across his hairline, he stammered. "I'll pay in full – keep the change. Where's his mom? Inside?"

"No." Distracted by the jewels, Mulan disclosed the classified information. "Mrs. Hawkins is at King Arthur's castle. Apparently there was a household evacuation. Admiral Triton reported that Wendy's powers were out of contr – "

Mulan stopped. Suspiciously, she rolled a ruby over the security console. "What did you say your name was?"

Sinbad thought fast.

"Anakin." he replied, Jim's favorite childhood movie on his mind. They must have watched _Star Wars a_ zillion times together. "Skywalker."

Sinbad saw the red flag spring over Mulan's head. She did not believe him. Not for a second _._

Inwardly Sinbad groused – _apparently Captain Fa had seen Star Wars and was familiar with the fictional being of Anakin Skywalker. Damn it. Mark it on your agenda Sinbad - get a plausible secret identity._

"Okay. Mr. _Skywalker_." Mulan tapped a button on the keyboard console. Behind him, Sinbad heard security cameras snapping pictures.

 _Damn it. She was getting him on tape_. _Well._ Sinbad rubbed his tooshie. _At least she was getting his best side._

"Since you paid the cash bond…" Mulan continued, arms crossed. "You're responsible for Jim until he receives sentencing from King Arthur. His Majesty should be here soon. Very soon."

Grinning, Mulan leaned. "Plan to stay?"

 _NO!_ Sinbad's conscience wailed. _SHE'S ON TO YOU MAN!_ _RUN FOR THE FREAKING HILLS! GO MAN GO!_

"Sure." Sweetly, Sinbad accepted. Light as a feather, he motioned. "I'm in no rush. Mind if I visit Hawkins while I wait? Wouldn't mind a cup of coffee either… _Captain_."

Styrofoam cup in hand, Sinbad followed Mulan into the detention block. Pretending to sip the coffee while scanning every security feature for flaws, Sinbad bumped into Mulan as she paused at a corner stall.

"Here we are. Inmate heaven. Mushu get out of there. Okay _Mr. Skywalker_ …" Mulan waved at the iron bars. "Jim Hawkins."

Sinbad stutter-stepped. His feet gelled to the floor.

"I uh…" Sinbad cupped a second hand under his coffee. The Styrofoam still trembled, threatening to fall. "He's…in _there_?"

Mulan's earbud crackled.

"Well that's how we _usually_ incarcerate criminals." she said, head tilting and fingers drawing to the earbud. "Locks. Keys. Bars. It's your basic Imprisonment 101….Yeah, Admiral Triton? I copy, this is Fa."

Sinbad edged closer as Mulan spoke into her wrist recorder. Instincts buzzing at mention of Admiral Triton, Sinbad nevertheless apprehended Jim's cell. Every movement was arduous, like his feet were nailed into the cement.

"Okay, plan as proceeded." Mulan assessed her wrist watch. "I'll meet you out front, full system patrol… no Hawkins and Pan are quiet, I had to tranquilize them… yes I thought it was a good idea too… okay Admiral, five minutes… I'm with a civilian now, but I'll leave him in the detention block… no he _bailed_ Hawkins… name? ha…. _Skywalker_ …"

There was a pause, followed by a cynical drone. Mulan reassessed Sinbad cagily as her earbud hummed. "… and _that's_ what I thought…okay…roger that Admiral … yes… over and out."

Mulan straightened. "Okay. Mr. Skywalker…"

Sinbad could have scripted the rest. Captain Fa announced the king's imminent arrival, and after a lame story "convinced" him to stay. Then, assuming Sinbad was a dimwit, she marched her authoritative self out of the detention block to greet the king and plan Sinbad's ambush.

Yeah. Right. Sinbad imagined his two favorite words: _authority rots._

Sinbad unsheathed his scimitar. Five minutes. He had five minutes. Escape wasn't just the safest option. It was the _only_ option. Sinbad and Triton went way back. WAY back. Sinbad loathed Triton's style (naval officer - pirate - bad mix), but their conflict stretched deeper than personal dislike. Triton would never forgive Sinbad for…

Truly grieved, Sinbad shook his head. _Well...poor Athena._

Discarding the dark memories, Sinbad willed himself to focus. Strategizing an escape during the three seconds it took to cross the room, Sinbad twirled his scimitar, aimed for freedom –

-and backtracked. Without pausing he turned, strode down the aisle, rounded the corner, stood directly before the cell, and beheld his son.

Sinbad was speechless.

The sight of his baby boy, grown into a man, was crippling.

He sunk. Sinbad sunk to his knees.

"God he - " wiping an eye, he choked. "-still has that rattail."

Time ticked preciously away. Sinbad's freedom ebbed with it. Still he remained, staring at his sleeping boy, unable to break away…

He reached through the bars. He strained, begging the distance to shrink. Then, a shiver froze Sinbad's black-hearted soul as his fingertip brushed Jim's cheek.

Hiss. The biometric door swished open. But as Mulan escorted King Arthur and his royal entourage into the detention block, Sinbad was gone.


	81. Chapter 81: The King's Command

**Chapter 81: The King's Command**

"Peter first. Jim second. Then..." Miserably, Arthur entered the interrogation chamber, Headmaster Mickey trailing silently behind. "Then it ends."

Headmaster Mickey did not speak. He was not present for counsel. He was not there to advise. He was present because King Arthur was ridden with guilt. On the day of his wedding, a day rainy and grey, Arthur had seen the repercussions of his kingship.

Five fates were dead. Five fates were tangled in sorrow. And Arthur accepted the blame. He accepted the afflictions of Ariel, Peter, Wendy, Jim, and Elsa. Four guardians cursed in love, and one innocent lady forced to love a man she did not. They were tormented, all five. And it was his fault.

Headmaster Mickey understood Arthur's guilt. But he did not say so. Sympathy would only sadden the young king, weaken his resolve. Shame was a burden of rule. It was an internal enemy, one that Arthur would have to fight harder than any foe.

No. Mickey was not there to play headmaster. He was there because Arthur was still a boy. A boy sick with guilt, and in desperate need of a friend.

So, Headmaster Mickey was surprised when Arthur asked him to leave.

"Alone, headmaster. I want to see Peter alone."

Headmaster Mickey complied, but only after a reticent farewell. Gently, Arthur nudged Archimedes after the little mouse. "You too Archimedes. Go."

Archimedes departed, almost too sadly to fly. Perching on Headmaster Mickey's shoulder, he sniffled as Arthur closed the door, brightened the lights, and awaited Peter Pan.

Peter arrived, accompanied by Agent Bubbles and Mulan.

Arthur was surprised: Peter neither struggled nor strut. He stumbled. Mulan pulled a chair. Agent Bubbles dropped Peter before the king.

Peter was bruised. Matted with blood. Indifferent to the welt reopening his lower lip. Stuck somewhere between life and death.

Arthur waited. When they were alone, he spoke.

"What happened?"

Throughout his life, _nothing_ hurt Arthur the way Peter cried.

... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... .. .. .. ... ...

Jim was tired beyond his years. The anger was still there, but tempered by Wendy's deceit. It was awful. Jim couldn't explain why he was exhausted. He had only felt such devastation as a child, when his father ran away.

But this...

This was worse. Unimaginably worse.

Wendy tricked him. Lied to him. Mistrusted him. Jim felt destroyed. Their friendship had been _priceless:_ like air. Jim had needed Wendy, and he had needed Wendy to _need_ him. She fathomed his pain. She took the garbage inside his head and searched for the diamonds. She let...she _needed_ Jim to be the father neither of them had.

Yes they were different. But they understood each other. After all, they were made of the same ingredients: velvet and steel. Wendy was the steel beneath the velvet. Jim was the velvet beneath the steel.

And now they were broken. It was over. Jim was the tired little boy Wendy had found on Pirate's Point – crying because he wasn't strong enough to fight the pain.

 _Why didn't Wendy tell him?_

She'd had countless opportunities to admit her engagement, Jim now recognized her every attempt. _Why didn't Wendy just tell him? Was she that scared?_ _Did she mistrust him, FEAR him that much? Yes he would have been mad. Furious! Out of his mind! But THIS was Wendy's solution? Sleeping with Pan? Tricking? Lying? Sacrificing herself to that disgusting piece of –_

Jim sat before King Arthur without a word. Arthur was grim. But Jim didn't care.

 _Why didn't Wendy tell him?_

"Jim. You are a thinker. I know you are thinking now. But..." Arthur waited for Jim's attention. When it focused, he continued. "But I want you to stop. I need you to listen. Do you understand?"

Jim answered with a glare.

"First, you should know..." Arthur overturned a hand. "Peter has been pardoned. His charges have been dropped."

Jim's chair screeched. " _What_?"

"Peter has been cleared of all allegations."

"He's been – by whom?"

"Me."

"Why?"

"Because he is innocent." Arthur replied. "Peter did not hurt Wendy. Well, I am sure she is hurt, but I think that fault lies with you. All of you. Including her."

"All of – ?" Jim was incensed. Bear claws extracting, he demanded. "How do you know Pan is innocent? How? Did he tell you that, because he told me the _exact_ opposite every time he put his filthy hands on her! Where is Peter? Where is Wendy? She could be sick, she could be injured, Pan could be with her, she needs to go to the hospital RIGHT NOW to make sure –"

"Peter is en route to my castle," Arthur interjected, voice lifting over Jim's. "He is being escorted by Admiral Triton and will remain there for my wedding, until the Wishing Star returns him to Skyworld. Wendy..."

Arthur paused, ensuring Jim caught the shift.

"Wendy is home." Arthur finished. Sore with compassion, he continued. "Admiral Triton found her there. He asked if Peter took advantage. He asked if Wendy was hurt. She said _no_ , Jim. Jim, Wendy said _no_. Yes, they were romantic it seems...but no one was evil. No one was cruel."

Bleakly, Arthur smiled. "You can sit back down now. Wendy is alright. At least she's... You can sit back down now."

Jim did not sit. "You paused. You started to say something, then you paused. What was that, what the hell is going on? What is wrong with Wendy?"

Arthur remained calm. But his next order was firm. "Would you sit down first? _Please_."

Jim obeyed. Had he not been agonizing over Wendy, he would have been impressed. Arthur had grown up, even in the past three days. He was confident, collected, fair. He was... kingly.

"Wendy's shadow working powers are uncontrolled." Arthur explained. "Admiral Triton approached her earlier today. He was only able to make brief contact – literally. Do you remember when Wendy accidentally summoned our shadows at the Round Table?"

Jim nodded.

"Apparently," Arthur said. "She was doing something similar today. Admiral Triton said Wendy warned him to leave. She seemed afraid, almost like the shadows were attacking. He said her eyes were black like before... but she was crying black tears."

"Black tears?"

"Yes. Then the shadows attacked. Your family is safe, they were evacuated. But Wendy is still there. No one is sure what happened, or what it means...other than, Wendy lost control."

Earnestly, Arthur leaned. "Here is the truth. Shadow working is _dangerous_. Aside from Wendy, Headmaster Mickey is our only authority on shadow magic, and his knowledge is incomplete. Jim, if Wendy doesn't learn to control her powers..."

Jim's stomach curled. "You're going to banish her. Aren't you?"

Arthur nodded, brows painfully knit.

"I'm afraid the alternative would be worse. Jim, I've heard the ancient stories. I've read the history books."

Arthur mimed. His descriptions became desperate, ragged. "Before, shadow workers were _dangerous_ , _feared_ people. They were hunted... tortured ... killed. Entire _wars_ were fought by shadow workers. Remember the Battle to Take Fantasia? We won _only_ because we controlled the shadows, because the Black Cauldron was destroyed."

Arthur inhaled, clearly preparing to divulge a nagging concern.

"Jim, I've already received complaints. And several threats. Did you know Wendy exorcised an entire gathering?"

Jim frowned. "When? Where?"

" _Tiana's Palace._ Two nights ago. She lost control – summoned every shadow. People were injured. Memories were relived. People were scared. Do you have any idea how lethal _fear_ can be?"

"It was an accident." Jim said, automatically jumping to Wendy's defense. "I wasn't there, but she would never intentionally hurt – "

Arthur snapped. He pointed at Jim. "Repeat that?"

"Repeat what?"

"You weren't there..." Arthur prompted, circling his pointed hand. "You weren't there but Wendy would..."

"But Wendy would never intentionally hurt..." Jim stopped. Stunned, he quietly sat back. "Wendy would never intentionally hurt someone. Unless...she was pushed too far. Unless...she saw no way out. Unless... she lost control."

Arthur let the words sink.

He waited for Jim to comprehend, to relate the truth to their disaster, and consider forgiveness. Or at least, to start.

Arthur rubbed Excalibur. Then he spoke.

"Outside, the sun is setting. You cannot see it – the sky is grey. But when the sun rises tomorrow..."

Arthur straightened, facing the future. "Fantasia's guardians will be separated once more. The four of you will return to loneliness. The four of you will return to ache. The four of you will return to the nightmare I decreed six years ago. But Jim..."

Arthur sighed. "We all went to school together. Wendy was a dreamer before she was a shadow worker. Shadow workers are not supposed to dream. Shadow workers are supposed to nightmare. They are supposed to _relish_ the fear. But Wendy does not. She is a demon afraid of mirrors. If she goes back to the Underworld... heartbroken and alone...her powers might win. She may not survive."

Arthur rose. Touched his crown.

"I've sinned against all of you, each guardian in kind. But listen to me now. Tomorrow morning, when you are separated, I will have wed without love. But, if you do this right, if you attack the time you have left... love can save you all. Love can save Fantasia's guardians... cursed or not."

King Arthur appraised Jim Hawkins, Excalibur at his side.

Then he ordered.

"I, King Arthur Pendragon, _command_ _you_ : Fix everything. _Now_."


	82. Chapter 82: A Jealous Female

**Chapter 82: A Jealous Female**

Castle rumors were flying. They were hurtling from mouth to ear.

Tinkerbell was in her glory.

"Poor little Miss Virtue! Poor Miss Holier Than Thou! All alone and nobody cares!"

Bun flouncing, Tinkerbell skipped between royal dignitaries and Skyworld executives. She paused for a cheerful word with the Indians, and informed them that Skyworld was her new home. The Underworld was history, she was moving to the skies! Sunshine and rainbows! Winds and clouds! Wasn't that just flitterific!?

The Indians were polite but strangely downcast. In fact, the entire castle was downcast. King Arthur's wedding preparations proceeded halfheartedly and every expression was somber as the evening rain. Even the wedding bells were singing a melancholy tune.

Tinkerbell thought the depression very strange! How could anyone be sad on a day like today? How could anyone be sad with such a wonderful rumor in the air? _Peter dumped Wendy! He played her like a doll and DUMPED that ugly little prude!_ It was delicious. Mouthwatering. Tinkerbell was so pleased. She fluttered across King Arthur's castle like a spring butterfly.

"Twinkle, twinkle little star! How I wonder what you are! Little Eagle word for word, killed an ugly Wendy bird! Twinkle, twinkle little star! Blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah! Oooooo goodie, goodie, goodie! Tink you are such a…bitch."

Tinkerbell stopped. She floated backwards, revisiting a wide, dimly lit room. She'd almost bypassed the chamber, it was so dismal and empty inside. On second inspection, Tinkerbell saw the room was dismal, yes. But it was not empty. Seated before the window, head pressed against the pane, was –

"Peter."

Tinkerbell almost sang. Her luck just kept snowballing and her bliss just kept growing! Wishing Wendy was there, Tinkerbell feigned sympathy and tried not to shimmer _too_ brightly as she approached Peter Pan.

"Hi Handsome, what's - Oh. Peter…."

Wings folding downward, Tinkerbell brushed Peter's cheek. His skin reflected raindrops on window, but as Tinkerbell touched, she felt tears. Real tears.

"Peter. You're crying."

Her anger flared, suddenly suspicious the tears were for Wendy. Then, suppressing her scorn, Tinkerbell embraced Peter. As he fell into her neck, she smiled. Sorrow could be manipulated into hatred – all it needed was a little encouragement.

"She hurt you, didn't she?" Tinkerbell rubbed, spreading Peter's pain across his chest. "And now she's gone. She doesn't care if you stare out the window and cry. It's okay Peter. I'm here. And so are you. The One and Only Pan…remember?"

Peter trembled. Tinkerbell kissed his hair, pressed his cheek against hers.

"The One and Only Pan – wild, fiery, and free. Peter, how could she _possibly_ deserve you? She was too tame, too soft, too spotless, too weak. How could Wendy Darling even _begin_ to _reach_ where Peter Pan flies?"

Tinkerbell sunk into Peter, but he suddenly withdrew. Savagely he flew away, toes scraping the floor until he finally stumbled to earth, one hand squeezing his heart.

To say Tinkerbell turned red would be to say fire burns. The description is accurate, but cannot translate the intensity, the heat. Peter hadn't spoken, but his anguish was clear. He was screaming in sadness, screaming in pain. Even though he had thrown her away, Peter was screaming for Wendy.

Tinkerbell never hated _anyone_ so deeply in her life. She wished Wendy was dead; dead as her romance with Peter Pan.

"Green with envy. Fortunately a very becoming shade, especially on you."

Tinkerbell darted upright, wings twinkling as she rose. Lighthearted laughter echoed from every corner as she searched for the source. "Who's that? Who's there?"

"Here." the voice whispered behind her.

She spun. There was no one, but the darkness rippled, and she chased the movement left to right.

"Where?"

A thin chuckle. Aside her ear. "Right here."

Tinkerbell thrashed. She swerved uncontrollably, swiping air. " _Where_? Where are you?"

"I am everywhere. I am…here."

Darkness tumbled from the ceiling. Tinkerbell cowered but was utterly entranced as the mass gathered into a slender figure with black robes and glowing, molten eyes. Riveted, she stared as the shadowy creature introduced himself.

"I am darkness and fear. I am the King of Nightmares. I am the Boogie Man. I, Miss Bell, am Pitch Black. Oh no – don't run away."

Pitch flicked. Tinkerbell veered sharply as three nightmares blocked her escape. Pitch smiled as the nightmares snarled, their skeletal bodies heaving towards Tinkerbell as she retreated.

"Nightmares… _shadows_." Anger revitalized, Tinkerbell growled. "Wendy sent you! Wendy sent you because Peter trashed her little white body! Well just wait till I'm in Skyworld. I'm going to make Peter forget Wendy ever – "

"Again, green – a very flattering hue. But you are mistaken, Miss Bell. I, the King of Nightmares, sent by a little shadow worker? Please. It's _laughable_. However..."

Pitch slithered closer. "I believe the Underworld guardian is a common enemy that we both share. I believe we both would like to see her...removed. Permanently."

Tinkerbell tilted, placing both Pitch and his nightmares in full view. Interestingly, she reviewed Pitch's statement and smiled.

"Do you…. _Pitch_ …. want Wendy dead?"

Pitch caressed his hands. "Do you?"

Tinkerbell's wings curled to devil horns. "What will cost me?"

"Entrance to the Underworld. And…" Pitch licked his jagged teeth. "A way under the beds."

Tinkerbell absolutely glimmered. "I can give you both. Rather, I can give you the Underworld. Wendy already took care of the rest."

Pitch rolled with mirth. Congratulating Tinkerbell's vengeance, he silently mused: _A jealous female can be tricked into anything._

* * *

 **sultal's note:**

 **Well I asked for it. Gosh, I got two new songs (per my last AN), popped them into my ipod without listening, and started SOBBING on the track as I was running and listening to them for the first time. Kid stops me - "uh you okay?" Good gods. And both songs were recommended for Peter (like I'M starting to feel sorry for the guy, and I'm on Team Jim).**

 **Holy crow, I think the appropriate phrase would be "DA FEEEEEEEEEEELS!" Eeesh. Keep em coming, but gosh my heart! Here were the 2 songs:**

 **(1) " _Why Don't You Love Me?_ " by Hot Chelle Rae (recc by Big4girl) - I will be using this for a later character (in addition to Peter's feelings about Wendy at this point), but it fits for both. DEF using this one. One of those utterly perfect songs.**

 **(2) " _Almost Lover_ " by A Fine Frenzy (recc by sionainn_dancer3)**


	83. Chapter 83: Trick or Treat?

**Chapter 83: Trick or Treat?**

Tooth shivered. North's snow-globe portal had spit them right into bad weather. Wind, rain, slush the works. Admittedly, the rainfall wasn't _too_ heavy, but it _was_ cold. Even North was shuddering in his furry red overcoat and black ushanka hat.

It was a dismal day in Fantasia. And their unsuccessful search for the Otherland child made everything worse. According to North's globe, the child was somewhere in the Western Fantasian Sea, but the rainy weather complicated their search.

Everything looked grey. The ocean was grey, the sky was grey, up, down, left, right was grey…Tooth knew they were flying in circles. Why, if it hadn't been for Sandy (glimmering on North's reindeer sleigh), Tooth would have lost the group herself.

"Come on girls…" Shielding her mini-fairies from the rain, Tooth flew to the sleigh. The flight was short but difficult. North's sleigh was a cross between a snowmobile and F-14 jet fighter, _and_ powered by eight giant reindeer. Rollercoaster on steroids – Tooth barely caught up.

"Okay, everybody under." Tooth fanned her wings, creating an umbrella for her freezing fairies. The fairies chirped gratefully as she settled between Sandman and Bunny. Both guardians were dreary, but Bunny was grouchy. Bunny did not like flying, and he _detested_ North's sleigh.

Tooth sighed. Spirits damp, she scanned the sleigh's dashboard for the miniature version of North's Globe of Belief. The tiny red light - the Otherland child in trouble – was still there, but it was _fading_.

Tooth wrung her feathers. _Oh no! The child's light was dying!_ That meant the child's belief in the guardians was also dying. And if too many children stopped believing, then the guardians would become invisible. Invisible…like Jack Frost.

Tooth brightened. _Jack! Jack was in Fantasia!_

She had an idea.

"North!" Tooth reached over Sandman. "North head back to the mainland! We need to find Jack! Cold and ice are his powers, his elements! Maybe he'll be able to navigate this storm and help us find the child!"

Sandman looked thoughtful. He gave Tooth a thumbs-up.

Bunny immediately objected. "Jack? We don't need Jack! He hit the high road, remember? Kissed guardianship goodbye like a - _ahh-aahh ah ahhhh_!"

"Is good plan!" North bellowed, slapping the reins. The reindeer spurred, pulling the sleigh in a loop de loop. As Bunny swallowed carrots, Sandman and Tooth hugged as the sleigh returned right side up. It was a challenge – North didn't believe in seatbelts.

"All eyes out for Jack Frost!" North zoomed through ocean mist. As the Fantasian cliffs emerged over the seascape, he tapped the miniature globe. "And be quick! This child, she is suffering."

Four faces fell. Sandman puckered sadly. Even Bunny stopped complaining. They all silently prayed for the suffering child.

Determination restored, Tooth leapt from the sleigh. Mini-fairies streaking behind as she dove for the Fantasian coastline.

Suddenly Tooth crumpled. An icy, invisible _something_ bit her mind. It was like an icecream headache but worse. Much worse. Tooth felt like an icicle had been stabbed through her brain.

North screeched overhead, shouting and waving as Tooth plunged. His voice was distant. Tooth only managed to survive the fall by thinking of the Otherland child – the child they were going to save.

"Oof!" Tooth whacked onto a rooftop. The icy headache intensified as she tumbled past the chimney, over the lip, down the sidewall, and by an open window. And as she fell, Tooth glimpsed inside.

"Oh. No. What…" Painfully, Tooth picked herself up. Scanning the barren cliff before looking again at the open window, she wondered if it was safe to enter. Something evil was inside that room. Something that looked like…

"Shadows. Nightmares." As North crash-landed, Tooth squeezed her heart. "Pitch."

"Tooth!" Bunny hopped from the sleigh, boomerangs raised. Abruptly he staggered, clutching his head. "Whoa – what the? What the bloody is that _feeling_ …it feels like… like …. _crikey_."

Bunny sniffed the air. His eyes narrowed. Muscles tensed beneath his fur.

"North. Ya smell that, mate? It's –"

"Shadows." North unsheathed his sabres. Belligerently, he stalked the rooftop. "It is as I said. Pitch _is_ back. He is here. In Fantasia. He is –" North approached the chimney, preparing to invade. " _Inside_. Everybody. On count of three. One –"

Bunny crept to the window ledge. North mounted the chimney stack.

"Two –"

Sandman unleashed two long, golden whips. Tooth sliced open her wings, ready to attack.

"Three!"

They pounced! North ambushed the fireplace, Bunny boomeranged inside, Sandman swung his whips, Tooth stormed the open window, and then –

" _Rimsky Korsakov_!"

They stopped, withheld by North's surprised yell.

"Oh my…" Tooth covered her mouth. "That's not Pitch. That's…"

It was a girl. A girl so small and delicate, her age was impossible to tell. She could have been twelve or twenty-one. But one thing was clear: she was in pain. And...

"She's a shadow worker."

Hostilely, Bunny pointed at the shadows suctioned to the girl's pale skin and pink slip. With her every attempt to move, the shadows boiled like hot tar.

"A right awful shadow worker." Bunny scoffed. "No wonder Tooth fell out of the sky – this shadow worker lost control. Her bloody shadows have gone stir wild! Look. North you remember? Remember what happens when a shadow worker breaks?"

North lowered his sabres. Darkly, he nodded. " _Da_. Shadows control a mind's pathways. Is a game Pitch used to play with shadow workers. He'd hunt the mind… find secret streets inside head…"

Pityingly, North studied the girl. "…and use their power against them. He'd create nightmares that never wake up."

"Never wake up?" Horrified, Tooth darted for the girl. "Help! We have to help her!"

North quickly ushered Tooth back. "No Tooth. Is not safe. Wait. Let Sandy…"

"North I don't think we should." Bunny said as Sandman approached the girl. "What good will it do if Sandy racks her out of it? She's a shadow worker. She might be working with Pitch! Plus she's a Fantasian! We've got a job to do, I say we just leave and–"

"Bunny!" Tooth cried. "She's just a kid! She's crying! She's—"

"I'd cry too if I couldn't hold onto my bloody powers! It's a crock Tooth, shadow workers are dangerous! We don't want to get involved with –"

Dreamsand fluffed into the air, ending their quarrel. Sandman scowled reproachfully at Bunny before continuing with the girl. Pinching a lip, he carefully inspected. The girl was curled away, face in the floor, but her shoulders shook intermittently with weak sobs.

Sandman nodded to himself, comprehending the girl's erratic movements. She was trying to fight the nightmares. However, she was losing. Severely. For some reason her unhappy thoughts were lethal. Too lethal to escape.

"Sandy." Bunny's voice was thick. Rigidly, he motioned to the bed. "Over there. On the pillow. There's a loose shadow."

Sandman looked. There _was_ a shadow: a pointy eared, intensely _familiar_ looking shadow. Memory joggled, Sandman scratched his head. The shadow remained docile (it was probably intimidated by the dreamsand), but as the guardians stared, the shadow pointed at the girl and pressed its hands pleadingly. It repeated the motion. Twice.

"Did that shadow just…?" Bunny, Tooth, and North shared an incredulous glance. "Ask us to help her?"

Sandman peered, both curious and wary. He glanced between the girl and shadow, trying to form a connection. Finally, unable to recognize the shadow, Sandman sighed, picked his way around the girl, and gently raised her head.

FLASH! A golden exclamation point swooshed over Sandman's head. The exclamation point was immediately followed by a whirl of images: _ribbon, needle, bow, thread, spool, bowler, smile, downward arrow, bow, needle, corkscrew, ribbon, sad face, bowler, spool, thread, needle, ribbon, bow_ -!

"Sandy?" Tooth called as Sandman punched victoriously into the air. She ducked under North as dreamsand glittered across the ceiling. "Sandy? What is it? Is… have you seen this girl before?"

Sandman nodded. Elatedly. _YES!_

"You _have_?" Bunny glowered once at North. Flummoxed, North shrugged but he reexamined the girl, intrigued.

"When?" Bunny demanded. "Where? How? Is she a shadow worker or –"

"It doesn't matter!" Tooth insisted. "Sandy! You _have_ to help her _right now_!"

"Sandy _don't_!" Bunny said. "We've got another child to save. Plus, one less shadow worker in the world in't a bad thing."

"Bunny!" Tooth scolded. Her mini-fairies chittered angrily. "Bunny, how could you say that! She's just a little girl! Sandy – do it!"

"Sandy!" Bunny growled. "Don't!"

"Do it!"

"Don't!"

" _Do it_!"

" _Don't_!"

"Sandy!"

"Sandy!"

"Who the _hell_ are all of you?"

A second, startled exclamation point poofed over Sandman's head. Equally alarmed, the four guardians turned as a young man blocked the doorway. They froze. The young man was bloodshot, raw with worry, and aiming a blaster.

They were caught. Big time. They were never supposed to get caught.

"Ohhhhh." Tooth murmured.

"Crikey." Bunny stammered.

"Yipa." North breathed.

Sandman's dreamsand swirled into a jack-o-lantern. Sheepishly, he shrugged. _Trick or treat?_

The young man exhaled. He glanced at the girl. His blaster shook.

"Who the hell are you?" he repeated.

* * *

… … **. ….**

* * *

Actually, Jim knew _exactly_ who they were. At least, he recognized the "iconic" Santa Clause and Easter Bunny, however demented. The other two intruders were less familiar, but Jim didn't care. One look at Wendy…

" _Shit_." Haggardly, Jim entered. Stumbling over the shadows, he writhed as memories of Sinbad charbroiled his brain. "Ahhhrrrrah! Shit! Wen – Wendy get up – Wendy?"

Jim fought the memories. Straining, he looked at Wendy. He panicked. She wasn't moving. She wasn't breathing. Her eyes were open but they were black, fleshy, and drenched with dark tears.

"No, no, shit! _Wendy_?"

"Hey! It's okay!"

A rainbow blurred overhead. Jim faltered as the fairy-hummingbird-thing eased him to the ground. As her companions objected, she quickly introduced herself as "Tooth, the toothfairy" –

(Jim almost died).

-and her companions as North (Santa Clause), Bunny (The Easter Bunny), and Sandy (The Sandman), who was apparently acquainted with Wendy and preparing to save her with something called "dreamsand." Everything was okay. They were guardians.

(Jim almost died again).

"No...y-you're." Jim grimaced through his memories. It hurt. His head stung. "You're not guardians...We're-"

What happened next, Jim wasn't sure he if had dreamt. The shadows began to shrink, and Jim suddenly felt _very_ sleepy. He slumped into Tooth, blinking to stay awake as she rubbed his shoulder and complimented his teeth.

Jim frowned, too drowsy to accept her praise. Focusing, he grappled for Wendy. "N – no. Wen –"

"Shh. It's okay." Tooth's feathers glossed his cheek. "Look. Just watch. Sandy is going to turn her nightmares to dreams. Using dreamsand. Hey, looks like you'll have a dream too. It's okay. Just watch."

Blearily Jim obeyed, still uncertain if he was dreaming.

But dream or not, he was amazed.

The mute little man – Sandman – smoothed Wendy's forehead, leaving a glittery golden trail. The sparkles rolled over her skin, into her eyelashes, and the tip of her nose. Wendy sneezed, which made Sandman smile. The dreamsand spread. Shadows evaporated, hissed into smoke. The black in Wendy's eyes flickered to blue as her lids slowly…. heavily…sleepily…drooped...shut.

"Don't worry. You'll wake up in a bit." Jim heard Tooth disappearing far, far away. "Have a nice dream."

Jim did have a nice dream.

 _He dreamt of kinder days, innocent times. He dreamt of childhood adventures…building a solar surfer in a secret fort….and a little girl with a bright blue bow….snuggled beside … asking him hopefully...to be her best friend forever._

Jim opened his eyes. He woke and looked down.

Wendy, head cradled in his lap, looked up. She met his gaze.

They stared.

"Put some god damn clothes on." Jim said, exiting the room so she wouldn't see him cry.

* * *

 **sultal's note:**

 **Couple questions on why I chose "Gwendolyn" instead of "Jane" for Wen and Peter's future daughter. Good question, here's the answer.**

 **(1) THE MOST IMPORTANT REASON I DECIDED ON GWEN - Jim calls Wendy "Wen." A natural nickname for Gwendolyn is...you guessed it..."GWEN!" Get it...Wen...Gwen... :P :)**

 **(2)** **I do think Peter would think it a no brainer that their kids would be named after them! The boy is conceited (for good reason, but conceited still). Wendy would, I think, find the compromise of "gwendolyn" vs Wendy.**

 **(3) If Wen and Peter had kids, I think they would be the quintessential fairy tale kids - so they needed fairytale-ish names. Michaleen and Gwendolyn were appropriate :)**

 **(4) I actually really love the name Gwen. Kinda sporty AND proper sounding...a lot like if you combined Wendy (proper) and Peter (sporty) character traits.**

 **(((And yes, Gwendolyn is 100% story-boarded and ready to go for those of you that asked.)))**


	84. Chapter 84: Velvet and Steel

**Chapter 84: Velvet and Steel**

Three times Jim entered.

Three times he judged Wendy and left, unable to talk for disgust.

Three times Wendy stared at his boots, trying not to cry. But each time he scoffed, each time he reappeared, each time he stormed away, Wendy's sadness hardened to anger.

She didn't remember what happened after the nightmares struck. She didn't know how Jim pulled her from the darkness. But now, with pain _everywhere_ inside her, Wendy wished Jim had left her to die.

 _Peter ended it. He ended their engagement. He ended them._

Wendy stared at her dreamcatcher. The magical hoop was destroyed, broken as her future with Peter Pan.

They were nothing.

Finally, Jim re-entered a last time. Chair in hand he rounded the bed and stood before her.

He said nothing. Neither did she. Then –

 _Crack!_ Wendy flinched as Jim slammed the chair and sat. He was _smoldering_ with every evil emotion, she could see it in his eyes, hear it in his voice.

"I told you to _get dressed_."

His tone was _insulting_. Humiliated, Wendy tightened the hem of her pink slip. But she might as well have been naked. Jim was calling her immodest, he was slurring her chastity. He thought she was a tramp.

Refusing an explanation _or_ apology, Wendy glared into nothing. She fought to stay calm. She bit her lip so hard it hurt.

Jim stared. Then he growled.

"Are you _insane_? You let that piece of shit…you let him…" Furious, Jim spit. "Are you _fucking_ insane -"

" _Shut up_!"

Wendy heard the shriek before realizing it was hers. Every frustration she'd withheld since arriving in Fantasia ruptured and unleashed. She couldn't have stopped if she tried. A second after the first explosion, she was on her feet and screaming.

"Are you happy?!" Wendy demanded, tears stinging her cheeks. " _Are you_?! You got exactly what you wanted, ARE YOU HAPPY?!"

"You sleeping with Pan—" Jim roared "—is not what I wanted, NO! You giving yourself to that piece of shit—"

"NOTHING HAPPENED!" Wendy screamed so violently she started to choke. "Nothing happened but I WISH IT HAD! I wish Peter had taken me but HE DIDN'T! He said I wasn't ready! He said I was scared! He thinks I'm a silly little girl that can't please him AND IT'S ALL YOUR FAULT! HE HATES ME! HE—"

The truth was too painful, too overwhelming, Wendy felt herself slipping into blackness, losing control. "YOU WERE RIGHT! ARE YOU HAPPY YOU WERE RIGHT – PETER HAS NEVER SAID I LOVE YOU AND HE _NEVER_ WILL BECAUSE HE HATES ME! HE _HATES_ ME! HE HATES HATES _HATES_ –"

Jim seized.

"Calm down! Wendy –"

"Get off!" Wendy thrashed. Her eyes flickered black. "Let go – get off!"

"Wendy calm –"

"GET OFF!"

"Wendy-!"

"GET-!" Wendy screamed, ripping away. "- OFF! Get off – let go – leave me alone you _SELFISH, EVIL_ –"

Her rage was unimaginable. Overcome with grief, Wendy hit Jim with every ounce of anger inside her. Her fist stung– and sunk into his shadow.

What she saw, what she _felt_ , was unbearable. Jim's cruelest memories poured out, flooding her with his loneliness, restlessness, bitterness, anger, fear, and _utter_ self-loathing. She felt Jim's confusion when Sinbad ran away, and his anguish every day after. She felt Jim's sorrow when he shunned Sarah, and his frustration when she didn't understand. She felt Jim's terror when he pulled the blankets, and saw his little sister coiled under Peter Pan. And she felt Jim's yearning for Ariel… his girl… the one he loved… the one he didn't deserve… the one… possibly carrying… his –

Wendy dropped. She heard Jim do the same. _Thud._ He crumbled, gasping from the exorcism, trying to breathe. Wendy shook. Ashamed of what she had done and terrified of what she had seen, Wendy sobbed into her hands.

A moment later, Jim was there. He pulled her in, and whispered as she cried into his chest.

"Wendy. Why didn't you tell me?"

She whispered back. "Why didn't _you_ tell _me_?"

Jim paused. Clenching her hair, he asked. "What do you mean?"

Wendy spoke so softly, Jim bent to hear.

"You're trying to have a baby."

Jim tensed. And then he sagged, releasing the weight of the world as his secret unmasked. Wendy knew. She had discovered Ariel's wish.

Jim eased Wendy before him.

"How did you know?"

She blinked tears. "Does it matter?"

"No. It doesn't."

They sat in silence. Finally, Wendy tremored. "Is…she…?"

"No." Jim said. His voice scratched. "I don't know. I don't know. I thought Ariel would be able to tell, but…she needs to take a test. It…it will be a while before we can find out. Two weeks. When she's in the sea, and I'm…"

He couldn't finish.

Wendy glanced at the window, at the stars hiding behind the clouds.

"Why didn't you tell me?" she asked.

"Because…" Jim choked. "When Ariel gets an idea she attacks it. No questions. No thought. Gut instinct. And when she gets excited it's contagious. And I… I want one. _So bad._ And…and…"

Jim looked directly at Wendy.

"I trust your judgement more than anyone's. More than Mom, Ariel, Silver…anyone. Because when you get an idea…you work backwards. You make sure no one can get hurt. I was afraid…if I asked you…"

Mournfully, Wendy completed the thought. "…then I would say don't. I would say that when we left Fantasia…you would be hurt. That you would hate yourself. You were afraid…I would say don't."

"And…" Jim said. "That you would try…with _him_."

They gazed.

Wretchedly, Jim breathed. "Wen… _why_?"

His question killed her. Not because she had betrayed his trust. But because the answer didn't matter. It was over.

"Jim – I – " Wendy turned. Caving into herself, she wept as Jim hugged hard enough to keep her from falling apart.

"Make him come back." she begged. "Make him come back. _Please_ just make him come back."

Fiercely, Jim kneaded a tear.

"Wendy – I don't like Peter. I don't. But you – you couldn't tell me? Were you that afraid? Were you that scared? Were you that terrified I wouldn't understand? Wendy –"

Jim squeezed, speaking into her hair. "Wendy if Peter proposed – if he _honestly_ proposed and wanted to _marry_ you, then _why didn't you_? Why the secrets? Why sleep with him? Bribe him? Feed him? Sacrifice everything to him? Wen –"

Pleadingly, he demanded an answer. He begged to understand.

"Why didn't you just _marry_ him?"

Her response was disarming.

"You."

Jim recoiled, stunned. Shinning with tears, Wendy explained.

"This was the easiest way… making love with Peter… He would have been happy. You would have never found out. But if I married him… and you never spoke to me again… Jim I've needed you… I can't live without… Jim… you're my best friend. So… I…"

"So you decided to sleep with Peter." Jim reiterated. "To make him happy. To keep him a secret from me. So no one would get hurt… _except_ _you_."

Wendy's hands fell from her heart. "Jim…I love him."

He knew she was telling the truth.

"Come here." Jim drew their foreheads together. One hand held her neck, the other her hand. Willing his strength to pass between them, Jim spoke. "I am going to tell you something Wendy Moria. And I want you to listen. I don't want you to cry. I don't want you think. I don't want you to pretend. Just listen…"

He ground his forehead, pushing into hers.

"You can't live like this. Do you hear me? _You cannot live like this_."

Wendy whispered. "Neither can you."

Somewhere a clock tolled. High above, the Wishing Star pulsed, warning the two best friends that time was short.

"Come on Lady Shadow Worker." Jim reached for Wendy's bowler. Her golden circlet glimmered as he rose, thinking of Ariel Triton and Peter Pan. "It's time to go."


	85. Chapter 85: Could vs Should

**Chapter 85: Could vs Should**

Jack tried to stay away. But the wind pulled him back to King Arthur's castle. It was pathetic, Jack was disgusted with himself, but the thought of returning to the Otherland ... alone... forever invisible...

Well, that was the half-truth. A partial lie. Jack could deal with invisibility. He'd been nothing but a wintry specter for 300 years, unseen by humanity and ignored by the Man in the Moon. To believe the drudgery of his life would change was a foolish dream. Jack realized that now.

No. Jack had returned to Fantasia for Elsa. He just wanted to see her, one last time. Because maybe, MAYBE, she would finally see him.

So Jack prowled the rooftop, hunting for an open window, a door ajar, a way inside. But he was not alone. Across the way, a second vagabond was lurking in the castle's glow...

* * *

 **... ... ...**

* * *

Sinbad didn't think twice about the frost. _Magically appearing frost on a rainy rooftop – eh. He'd seen worse._ Sinbad's every thought was aimed at (1) breaking and entering the castle, (2) kidnapping Sarah, and (3) possibly nabbing a piece of wedding cake on the way out. He'd seen the cake through the kitchen window – it looked fantastic. Chocolate. Yum.

His was a good, simple plan. But there were a couple of kinks. A couple of _big_ kinks.

First, the guest list was HUGE.

Sinbad crept over the ledge. Balanced like a stone gargoyle, he scrutinized the wedding proceedings. He frowned. _People. There were too many people, even for a wedding._

Apparently King Arthur was some pretty spectacular dude, because all of Fantasia had gathered outside his front doorstep. Old, young, men, women, children, dogs, cats, mice – _everybody_ was present, despite the dreary weather.

 _Geeze._ Sinbad snorted. _Kudos King Arthur. Pitch and Ruber might hate your guts, but man you've got one incredible fan base! Respect._

But still...

Sinbad scanned the arena. He was almost nauseated. _All of Fantasia gathered in one place? It was just like a slaughter house – Pitch's job was going to be very easy. Very._

Worriedly, Sinbad scratched his goatee. He needed a quick escape, and too many people would endanger that. True, the crowd would conceal him from the guards (should they make chase), but Sinbad _suspected_ that Sarah wouldn't go down easy. If he had to kidnap her "bad guy style" (over the shoulder, no questions asked), _someone_ would surely come to Sarah's rescue. And Sinbad _really_ didn't want to kill anybody. After all, that might spoil the wedding.

And then there was Jim.

Butterflies swirled in Sinbad's stomach. Seeing his baby boy all grown up had been the most _thrilling_ and _agonizing_ experience. Since the encounter, Sinbad had _obsessed_ over Jim. Thousands of questions itched to be answered: _What was Jim like? Exactly how tall was he? Where did he work? Or was he still in school? Did he still like Star Wars? Did he sill want to be a Jedi? What was WITH that police record? Did he have a girlfriend? Good god – what was the kid's favorite color?_

 _Did he like his new family? Did he pick on his adorable (albeit irksome) little sister?_

 _Did...he miss him? Did Jim... miss his dad?_

Sinbad looked to the ocean. He could just see the water, a silver line stretching into the mist, holding _The Princess_ , waiting for Sinbad make his escape. Waiting for Sinbad... to runaway.

Runaway.

"Not this time."

Decisively, Sinbad crept over the eastern tower. The tower was dim, separated from the wedding hullabaloo. Slinking to a stained-glass window, Sinbad angled his scimitar against the iron grilles outlining the glass. Sarah on his mind and Jim's eleven year-old plea in his ears, he braced the scimitar and pushed.

The glass shattered.

"One Fantasian my ass." Sinbad dropped nimbly inside. Kicking the broken glass, he slipped into the shadows, one hand covering the enchanted seashell necklace to hide the glow. "Sorry Pitch. I'm saving two."

* * *

 **... ... ...**

* * *

Arthur bypassed the broken stained-glass window. He walked over the rainbow shards, down the greystone foyer, to a pair of wooden doors, opened the one on the right...

...and prepared for his wedding. He ran numbly through the motions like a prisoner sentenced to death. He bathed, dried, brushed his ridiculously thick hair, polished his crown, and rubbed Excalibur until it shown.

Finally, as the castle was buzzing with excitement, Arthur donned his ceremonial robes.

He gazed at his reflection. And sighed.

Black. His wedding robes were black. True, the ensemble was stunning – an obsidian tunic with gold - pearlescent trim and gorgeous leather belt – but Arthur felt he was dressed for a funeral. Not 'the happiest day of his life.' However, black was the color Edna's fairygodmother algorithm had produced, and Arthur knew it was appropriate. Any other color would be too cheerful for this miserable, miserable day.

Resigning to his grief, Arthur sighed again. Glumly, he attempted to loop the beautiful leather belt with minimal success.

Luckily, Edna Mode arrived to save the day.

"Ack! You look horrible dahling!"

Her insult was pure sunshine.

Arthur _liked_ Edna. And he had a feeling she liked him too. Aside from Merlin and Archimedes, Edna was the only castle resident to address him informally without prompting. Assuredly, she called everyone "dahling" but it was more than that; it was her manner, her presence. Edna refused to place Arthur on a pedestal. She challenged him to think creatively, dress professionally, and be confident in his royal decrees. And if Arthur didn't, she wacked his head.

It was a haul. Usually they interacted like boxers in a ring – and Edna never went down easy.

Arthur loved her.

"Sloppy!" Edna yanked Arthur from the safety of his dressing screen. Blasting on every light, she tugged, prodded, and pulled. "What do you think this is? A pauper's rag? A potato sack? A pillow case? Ack! Stand here dahling! Don't slouch! Let me fix this miserable hem..."

Arthur obeyed. Fingering his sleeves (Edna immediately told him to stop), he glanced hesitantly at the little fashionista.

"Edna?"

"Hm?"

Arthur waited as Edna glared at Tiger ad Talbot. The dogs had ventured too far into Edna's 'personal creative space' and she glowered them back under the bed.

"What is it, dahling?" Edna asked irritably, pin between her teeth. "What do you want?"

Arthur thought back to his confrontation with Elsa.

"Is it bad luck to see the bride's dress before the wedding?"

Edna flapped the tunic, gesturing him to sit. "It's bad luck to remove the dress before the wedding, dahling." she grouchily replied.

Arthur's insides flip-flopped as he sat. _The wedding night._ That was an entirely different battle altogether, and one Arthur was _certain_ Elsa would win.

"I was just wondering." Arthur explained. He shifted as Edna perfected a loose seam. "Because I saw Elsa's wedding dress."

"Ah yes." Edna lowered her glasses, studying the black hem. "The gown with the stingy, twinkly train."

"I thought it looked nice."

"It was disgusting."

"Well, in a pinch..."

"Pinch of disgusting."

"Please Edna." Arthur said as she scuttled behind him. He cringed as she ruthlessly folded his collar. "You could design for the gods."

"I could rule the world, dahling." Edna muttered.

Weakly, Arthur laughed. Then, eyes on his crown, he sighed. Almost begged.

"You want mine?"

Edna paused, fingers on his sleeves. Then somehow, she was before him.

"I could rule the world dahling." Gravely, Edna placed two fingers under his chin. Forcing Arthur's gaze, she spoke. "But you _should_."

Arthur saw his reflection in Edna's thick, round glasses. Scared, lonely, but somehow strong enough to endure.

"Edna..." Arthur welled. "Can I give you a hug?"

Edna smiled. And she gave the king a much needed hug.

"Now. Now, now." Edna withdrew. Black bob bouncing, she retrieved Arthur's crown. Arthur bent. She placed it well.

"Now!" Edna repeated, smacking his head. Arthur smiled. She almost dislodged his crown. "No sniffles! Pull yourself together! You are king! King I say! KING! And..."

Edna winked. Arthur knew it was coming.

"I look fabulous?" he guessed.

Edna confirmed. "Yes, dahling. You look _fabulous_."


	86. Chapter 86: Hello Dearie

**Chapter 86: Hello Dearie**

Ariel sunk into the ocean. She sunk deeper than her undersea grotto. She sunk deeper than the city of Atlantis. She sunk deeper than the kingdom of Atlantica. She sunk to deepest, darkest chasm that even sea monsters feared to go.

The fish chased her, Flounder in the lead. "Ariel!" they called, swirling in her wake, "Ariel! Wait! There's something wrong on the surface! A ship –"

Ariel dove behind a curtain of luminous jellies. The pale tendrils undulated over her head, back, and toes, as she disappeared into the deep.

"Ariel!" the fish begged. "Ariel please, come back! We need you. We –"

Nothing. Not even a ripple. Ariel was gone.

The ocean was a mystery. Ariel still hadn't solved all its secrets, or tamed the monstrous depths. But she was not afraid. She was not afraid to venture from the safety of her grotto. After all, she was the Silent Siren – she could vanish without a sound...

...except for the sounds inside her head.

It was awful – Ariel's thoughts were mercenary. And it wasn't that the guardians had fought, _or_ that Peter had accused Wendy of infidelity. Peter's accusations had been sickening, but Ariel knew, deep, _deep_ down, that they were untrue.

What upset Ariel was that Jim placed Wendy first. When Ariel had tried to explain Wendy's actions, he read her lips but didn't _listen_. He discarded all assurances, rejected common sense, and ended a blossoming future – Wendy's future. He forced Wendy from Peter Pan.

Oh, and incidentally...Jim also sought her father... and neglected to ask for Ariel's hand.

He didn't even think of Ariel. Wendy came first.

Did she even matter?

Ariel cried, tormented by the thought. She hated herself for thinking it but the notion stuck. Peter's accusation was too possible to disbelieve, and Jim's actions spoke louder than words. Jim protected Wendy: Ariel was second. Just like Eric had said.

Ariel curled into a ball. She wept, hair flowing over her face.

She was tired of waiting. She was tired of trying. And she was tired of communicating between the guardians when no one listened. So she melted into the water, one hand on her stomach and the other massaging her throat. Her fingers tangled in Jim's seashell locket. Bitterly, Ariel wound the chain, intending to tear it off.

Then she heard Lana.

And Adella.

And Cordelia.

And Maris, Marina, Coral, and Limpet.

Her sister. Her cousins.

But... they were dead?

Bewildered, Ariel gaped upwards. She rubbed both ears, unwilling to believe the voices were real. Perhaps they were a stray echo, an ocean trick. But the melodious laughter was unmistakable – it belonged to her sister and cousins.

Ariel was stunned. She didn't know what to do.

But then she heard her friends – Flounder, Marlin, Nemo, Dori, all the fish from the pod. They were crying for help. And interlaced with their pleas were the shrieks of wicked mermaids.

Ariel kicked. Generating a current with her trident, she swam for the surface. The mermaids' laughter cresendoed as she sailed over basalt spires. Whether the antagonizers were indeed her cousins Ariel was still unsure but the issue was immaterial. Her fish were in pain.

Anger rising, Ariel squeezed her trident, willing the current to rise. She could travel faster with animal vehicles (riding the sharks or dolphins), but there was no time. An aquapathy signal would resound through the entire ocean and possibly alert the attackers. Ariel was alone – her offense would be more effective if she caught them by surprise.

Ariel wove through a coral garden. She mounted the last peak, opened to the open ocean – and swallowed water.

Lana smiled. "Hello dearie." she said, raising Flounder to her empty eye sockets. She pinched, gouging Flounder's yellow scales with her nails. "Join us for a swim?"

Ariel lunged, casting all confusion aside. But as she swam –

"Ariel!" Flounder frantically wailed. "Ariel behind –"

A net dropped over Ariel's head. Aquamarine tails flashed across her vision as the mermaids swept the net under and over, snarling Ariel in the mesh. The mermaids were positively giddy. Swarming, they reached through the net to scratch her face and pull her hair. As swiftly the handline lurched, dragging Ariel towards the keel of a dark ship.

Ariel knew it was the _Jolly Roger_ before she touched the surface. And she knew that something _horrible_ was waiting aboard.

But that was unimportant – because Lana had forgotten a very deadly detail.

 _You want to swim?_ Ariel clenched her trident. The golden teeth throbbed as she aimed at Captain Hook's pirate ship. _Then let's swim. Dearie._

* * *

 **... ... ...**

* * *

"How did you know?"

Schmendrick turned as Kayley whispered. He was startled – she'd been silent since their capture. And even now her voice was hushed, as if she were hoarse from screaming.

"Know what?" he asked gently, leaning against the mast.

Rain dripped from Kayley's hair. The auburn strands stuck to her cheeks. "How did you know Caliburn was with The Once and Future King? And why..." Kayley glared. " _Why_ did you tell Ruber?"

Schmendrick found Ruber as Kayley mentioned him name. The villain was psychotically cheerful, swiping his sword and beheading imaginary children as the _Jolly Roger_ approached Fantasia.

"Oh." Schmendrick sighed miserably as Ruber parried with Captain Hook. "That was a luckless lie. I had no idea where Caliburn vanished, to tell you the truth. I only meant to stop the killing and frighten Ruber's men. I _never_ imagined Caliburn would _actually_ magic itself to the future king..."

Wryly, Schmendrick snuffed. He choked on blood clotted from his broken nose. "Magic. It has a way of double crossing you."

" _Double crossing_?" Incredulous, Kayley twisted in her ropes. The fire that she'd lost returned to her eyes. " _You_ are the one that knew The King! And _you_ are the one that handed him and Caliburn to Ruber – ' _luckless lie_ 'or not! If The King could see you – if he could see what you've done! He'd –"

"Wait!" Schmendrick straightened. His blue eyes lit. "What did you say? The King – if he could _see_ me. Kayley... do you realize what you've said? If The King could see me – if he could recognize me – if we could warn him of the evil ahead – of Pitch Black and Ruber's plan!"

Kayley's eyes widened. "Would he believe you?"

"With an army of pirates, shadows, and dragons in Fantasia he'd have no choice! But yes! The King would surely recognize me! And I'd recognize him! Blue eyes, big ears, wide smile, fantastic head of _white_ hair!"

As the pirates suddenly shouted and gathered at the starboard bow, Schmendrick leaned into Kayley. "We just have to escape! We just have to break free! So Kayley, hear me now, I am a magician in all his fury! We are _almost_ to Fantasia! So when we land –"

Schmendrick never finished. For as he elucidated, a shaft of electricity bolted from the ocean. And Santa's magic sleigh slammed into the deck.

* * *

 **... ... ...**

* * *

"North! Look!"

 _Fume!_ Lightning crackled through the mist. The magical reindeer whinnied as the volt sizzled upwards from the ocean, instead of downwards from the sky. Golden electricity blasted through the water and spread into the air. For a split second everything illuminated.

"There!" Bunny yelled as Sandman pointed. A pirate ship flashed in the electrical discharge. "North there it is – the child's light is blinking! Jackpot mate! Ahhhh ahhhhhhhh!"

North wrenched the reins. Bunny howled as the sleigh dipped vertical and smashed into the ship. Tooth and Sandman flew over the rail and under gunfire as the sleigh skid sideways on its iron runners. Bunny followed as the sleigh crashed into the bulwark.

"The guardians!" Ruber slashed his sword, nicking Tooth's wings. Tooth fell, stumbling through the rain as Ruber stabbed for her head. "Sinbad was right – they are after the girl! Kill the girl, don't let them –"

Ruber faltered, electricity striking his armored breast plate. Tooth staggered upright as a girl with bright red hair sprinted past, golden trident raised for a second strike. Tooth beat her to the punch – right across Ruber's jaw.

If she was surprised by Tooth's offense, the redhead girl didn't pause. But as she darted left, Tooth swore the girl mouthed _Nice!_

Tooth almost responded, but Ruber counter attacked. As she dodged his assault, electricity scorched the deck and sparkled into the shrouds. The electrical energy was helpful but disorienting – Tooth couldn't find the Otherland child amidst the chaos.

Suddenly, Tooth saw blood. It squirted in her peripheral vision, almost neon-red in the darkness. It was the redhead girl, she'd been sliced across the arm by Captain Hook. Tooth yelled as the girl twirled her trident to deflect a second blow, when a shadow (controlled by an undead shadow man), attacked.

The redhead girl screamed without sound. Her trident extinguished as she buckled across the shaft, the shadow driving into her mind. She was helpless - helpless as Captain Hook reached over the shadow, grasped her red hair, raised his scythed hook -

"No!" Tooth scampered under Ruber's blade. Wings bent from the fight, she raced for the redhead girl as North suddenly bellowed. "Tooth! We have child! Is time! In sleigh! Now!"

Tooth glimpsed North, the Otherland girl and large-nosed magician tucked under his beefy arms. Sandman was waving, a dreamsand alarm clock vibrating over his head. Bunny was thundering across the deck, four pirates in hot pursuit. The reindeer were running. The sleigh was lifting, bullets were showering it's underside.

Tooth ground her teeth. Summoning every ounce of strength, she plunged through the shadow, seized the girl, and tumbled into North's sleigh as the reindeer tore for the Otherland.

Captain Hook growled as Ariel disappeared with the Kayley, Schmendrick, and the four Otherland guardians.

"Go then." he breathed, turning his back to the sleigh. As the jingle bells faded, Captain Hook motioned ahead. "One guardian less. Mates! Quickly! Onto Fantasia."


	87. Chapter 87: The Knight Errant

**Chapter 87: The Knight Errant**

 _What, what, what, what, WHAT? Fairytale characters? Santa? Easter Bunny? Toothfairy? Sandman? Strange girl? Stranger man? Captain Hook – Lana - Facilier – back from the dead? Magical reindeer? Flying AWAY from Fantasia? Fairytale characters? SANTA?_

Ariel handled her astonishment well.

She seized North's beard and pulled.

It was the most _bizarre_ experience. Ariel was _perfectly_ aware that she was wrestling Santa Clause. Please – red coat, white beard, flying reindeer? Dead giveaway.

Ariel _was_ surprised but unconcerned. The resurrection of Fantasia's old enemies _sufficiently_ overrode the fact that she'd been rescued by four fairytale characters. The _Jolly Roger_ was headed for land– Captain Hook's villains were trying to take Fantasia. Again.

So, risking permanent placement on Santa's Naughty List, Ariel tackled North. She crawled over his shoulder and snatched the reins, desperately trying to direct the sleigh back to Fantasia.

" _Shostakovich_!" North yelped as the reindeer scattered and the sleigh plunged. Schmendrick grabbed Kayley as the sleigh's rear runners slapped the ocean, bounced into the air, and toppled over waves. The pair hurled into Tooth, who vaulted into Sandman, who bumped dizzily into Bunny as the rabbit seized Ariel's middle.

"Get off! _Off_! Get off him you little sheila! Let g – _Cripes_!" Bunny ducked as Ariel slashed her trident, nearly poking his eye. The electrical discharge heated the tips of his ears as she swung about, reaching for the reins.

" _Rimsky_!" North yowled, swerving back and forth as the sleigh zigzagged for the ocean. Throwing a shoulder at Ariel's chin, he wrenched upwards at the last second. " _Rimsky Korsakov_! Tooth! Bunny! Sandy! What is problem?!"

"This – sheila!" Bunny hefted Ariel, trident and all. She kicked as Bunny shoved her between Kayley and Schmendrick. "This little sheila Tooth snuck aboard! Tooth, are your teeth loose? What were you thinking – she's a Fantasian – _WHOA_!"

Bunny veered, caught by surprise. Ariel had lunged again for North. Both Sandman and Bunny reacted, forcing Ariel into her seat. Bunny raised his boomerangs, threatening a second strike, but Tooth fluttered frantically between them.

"Wait, wait, wait! Everybody _hold_ onto your molars, she's on our side! I think! I don't know, she saved me from the crazy villain –"

"Ruber!" Kayley called as Ariel struggled to stand. "His name was Ruber! Ruber killed my mother and father, and he's going to steal Caliburn AND kill The Ki-"

"Well whoever _she_ is-!" Bunny shouted. "Get that bloody fork away from her! I've had enough of Fantasians for one night! Drop her off at the next iceberg, she's going to get us all killed!"

Ariel snarled. Popping up, she aimed her trident directly at Bunny. _I don't want to stab you Peter Cotton Tail BUT I WILL!_

Her message was transparent.

Bunny's lip curled. And his tail – a little cottonish – bristled. "Are you _threatening_ me, sheila?"

Ariel flicked her trident. Electricity flashed as the shaft exchanged hands, whisking left to right, improving her attack angle. Assuming the maneuver was an adequate affirmation, Ariel glowered.

Then viciously, she jabbed her finger back. Twice.

Kayley peered over Schmendrick, trying to connect the dots. Slightly awed by Ariel, she studied the Fantasian girl's finger, pointed towards Fantasia.

"Back?" Kayley murmured, gazing over the sleigh. "Back. Fantasia. _Back_. Yes!"

Kayley squirmed from Schmendrick and crouched unsteadily at Ariel's side. " _Back_. You want to go back? Yes? Right? You want to go back to Fantasia? To save the future king?"

Ariel turned, trident still hovering before Bunny. She questioned Kayley's statement with a frown. _Future_ _king? You mean Arthur? Wart? Save? What?_

"The king!" Kayley spouted as Schmendrick peeked from his hands. Breathlessly, she wrung the magician's shabby robes. "Schmendrick and I heard! Schmendrick and I saw! Ruber is going to steal Caliburn and kill the future king! If we don't warn him, the king and his magical sword are doomed! Ruber is attacking Fantasia with pirates, monsters, mermaids, nightmares, and shadows! He –"

Ariel snatched Kayley's wrist. The guardians moved protectively, but hesitated as Ariel lowered her trident and began mouthing.

"What's she saying?" Bunny demanded.

"I –?" Kayley ogled. "I don't know. Schmendrick? I don't know I can't -"

"She can't speak." Schmendrick said. Unsteadily he rose, swaying with the sleigh's pitch. "I can sense the magic, can't you? There's a black enchantment living in her throat. This Fantasian can't speak. You'll have to read her lips."

"Read her lips?" Kayley returned to Ariel as Sandman clapped in agreement. Grimacing, she tried to decipher the silent words. "I – I can't make it out. I'm sorry I can't make it –"

"It doesn't matter!" Bunny hopped before Kayley. "First a shadow worker and now _this_? A silent gizmo in a bikini? North keep flying for the Pole, leave Fantasia to –"

Ariel dropped Kayley's hand. Casting a final lethal glare, she sprinted over the sleigh and threw herself into the ocean.

Kayley was inspired. Schmendrick was slack-jawed. Tooth was horrified. Bunny was livid.

"Tooth no!" Bunny caught Tooth as she dove after Ariel. Batting the minifairies, he dragged her into the sleigh. "The sheila's gone, she's not our concern! If she thinks she can swim all the way to Fantasia, fine! Let the Fantasian guardians save her, we've got our own child -"

"Turn around!" Kayley suddenly screamed. She pattered the sleigh, hair whipping in the wind. "Turn around, fly back to Fantasia! We have to follow her! We have to save Caliburn! We have to save The King!"

"Kayley is right!" Schmendrick insisted, stumbling over Sandman. "The King is in danger! We must help! We must warn The King of Ruber's attack –"

"Oh CRIKEY not you too!"

Firmly, Bunny ushered Kayley down. "You're safe, so stop fighting! Magician – jester – whatever you are – you're getting a free ride so kill the theatrics! Sit! Fantasia is on it's own!"

"Bunny!" Tooth wavered as North tore through rain clouds. The rain was freezing. They were nearing the North Pole. "Bunny maybe we should help –"

"Fantasia is not our territory! Tooth – it's over!"

Dreamsand swished over Sandman's head, materializing into tiny golden children.

"Sandy's right!" Tooth said as Sandman jumped. "Bunny there are _children_ in Fantasia! Innocent children –"

"Tooth we can't!"

"But –"

"Once that Ruber fella takes Fantasia, the Otherland will come next! We have to go home and protect OUR children!"

Sandman shook his fists.

"No!" Bunny yelled.

"But –" Tooth started.

"No!" Bunny wacked his boomerangs together. "No, no, no, no –!"

" _Glazunov_!" North bellowed as Kayley darted through Bunny, over the dashboard, took the reins, and wrenched.

The reindeer lurched. Kayley gasped, her shoulders nearly dislocating with the forward force. Their power was immense, North's eight reindeer almost ripped Kayley from the sleigh. Schmendrick's cry popped like a cannon as North saved Kayley from slipping over the edge.

Kayley cringed. Rain cut into her eyes. Wind threw hair into her face. Her fingers burned against the leather reins.

She almost let go. Almost.

But then Kayley remembered her parents. She remembered her mother, Lady Julianna, murdered for defying Ruber. She remembered her father, Sir Lionel, sacrificing his life for The King.

And then she remembered Sir Lionel's promise. She heard it clearly, as if her father was whispering inside her ear.

 _"If the prophesy is true."_ Sir Lionel had said. _"If The King regains his throne, then I will let you try Kayley. I will let you become a knight. But only if the King regains his throne. The true king."_

Kayley squeezed her fists. "I will be a knight!" she growled, hurling her body backwards and swinging the sleigh about.

They spun. Rain mixed with screaming faces and flailing bodies as the reindeer charged for Fantasia. Kayley slammed into North. It was painful, despite his padding, but Kayley could not withhold a victorious cheer.

"Yes!" Kayley exclaimed as Schmendrick celebrated her triumph with a weary smile. Elatedly she whipped the reins. "Yes! Quest for Fantasia! Quest for Caliburn! Quest to save The King! Quest – "

Bunny towered over her. "Would you bloody SIT DOWN! We are NOT going to Fanta –"

"Bunny..." Tooth wavered. She pointed over Sandman's golden head. "Look."

Bunny paused. But he did not follow Tooth's arm. He looked at Sandman – and his blood froze.

The Sandman was grim. Deathly grim.

For in the distance lay Fantasia – an innocent, unassuming land. And above it, slithering like a giant serpent, was a _massive_ , _black_ shadow.

Kayley shrunk into North. Schmendrick clutched his neck.

The guardians breathed at once. "Pitch."

Sandman straightened, somehow dwarfing them all. Glancing once at Schmendrick and twice at Kayley, he extended a hand.

 _To Fantasia._

 _Hurry._

* * *

 **... ... ...**

* * *

Sometimes silence can be the loudest sound of all. Louder than a siren. Louder than a missile. Louder than a child screaming in the night.

"Merida."

Robin whispered, although he didn't know why. The Great Wall was silent as the grave and just as still. Danger had tucked in for the night. Evil was slumbering away. There was no reason to be wary. But Robin was. So was Merida. Their suspicion was unexplainable, but sharp as a knife to the gut.

"Something is wrong."

Merida nodded, an arrow slicing methodically over her bow. "I know. I can feel it."

"As can I." Robin agreed, scanning the treetops. His eyes dilated. His ears pricked. His fur tensed. "I can _smell_ it."

Merida _humphed_ , almost humorously. Then experimentally, she sniffed. She double sniffed. She sniffed again.

Then –

"Robin!" Merida shrieked, grasping his paw. In one motion she notched an arrow and shoved him over the wall. "Robin! It's smoke! Fire! Dragon -"

Fire blazed overhead, coloring Merida in orange. The reflection filled her face as she rotated, blasting arrows into the burning sky.

Robin pounced. But he did not fight. Forgoing his arrows, Robin sprinted to Merida. He had only a moment to cover her head as the Vikings attacked and dragon fire ruptured the Great Wall.


	88. Chapter 88: Demon and Angel

**sultal's note: song "Almost Lover" by A Fine Frenzy.** **Song recommended by: sionainn_dancer3.**

* * *

 **Chapter 88: Demon and Angel**

Wendy and Jim dripped into the castle, Jim dragging Wendy behind. Both had donned their realm outfits, but looked more like drowned puppies than guardians. They were soaked. Completely disheveled.

King Arthur's more _distinguished_ wedding guests snuffed at their drenched attire. Rain from Wendy's skirt stained the ivory carpet runner, and flowered arches wilted as Jim passed. The guests were appalled. It was despicable! How could they arrive in such a state! After all, this was a royal wedding; it was incumbent upon all guests to dress nicely.

Jim answered the scoffs with a scowl. His bloodshot eyes burned away every judgmental stare as he entered the castle, Wendy under his arm. Wendy was resisting, fearful of confronting Peter; but strangely it was _Jim_ that struggled not to cry.

He couldn't find Ariel. When Wendy relayed Admiral Triton's message, that Ariel had returned to sea, Jim's heart had broken. And when Ariel didn't answer every time he screamed her name over the waves, he had wanted to die. Standing in the rain, waist deep in water, Jim had wanted to die.

Had it not been for Wendy, Jim would have pursued Ariel until he drowned. But guilt pulled Jim out of the ocean and into King Arthur's castle, in search of Peter Pan.

"I screwed this up." Jim wove Wendy between giggling bridesmaids. Peter's shadow and Morph scuttled into the rafters as he led her inside King Arthur's Throne Room, the wedding's epicenter. "So now we're going to set things right. Peter's somewhere in here – "

Jim scanned. The Throne Room glowed like a diamond but was congested with Fantasians. Dignitaries, realm representatives, magical beings, friends, family members – they were all there. Security forces were aligning the visitors, but it was still overcrowded.

Jim spotted a corner of Skyworld Indians. His gaze fell naturally to Admiral Triton walking briskly by.

"Over there..." Jim drew Wendy deeper. "Skyworld is over there. You see them? By the throne? Peter might be in the center. I'm going to talk to Admiral Triton, give him a message – " Jim swallowed, thorns in his throat. "—for Ariel. You go ask Chief Powhatan if Peter –"

Wendy fought. "Jim I ca–"

"Yes you can. Come on."

"But what if Peter –"

"Then he's stupid and evil." Jim said, reading her mind. He pushed through the crowd. "I still don't like Peter, but if you were willing to sleep with the asshole –"

"We _didn't_."

"—then Mom was right, there must be _something_ you're seeing in him. So, even though I think you can do better –"

"I can't do better."

Jim stopped. He turned as Wendy pried apart their hands.

"I can't do better." she said. "And I wouldn't want to if I could."

Something in Wendy's voice made Jim look twice. It wasn't sad and it wasn't desperate. Her voice was simple and worn, like she was confessing the truth after telling a lie.

Massaging the hand she'd withdrawn, Jim sighed. "You believe that. Don't you?"

Wendy didn't respond. But her silence was enough.

"Okay, Wen." Rubbing her shoulder, Jim strode for Admiral Triton. "Go find him. Good luck."

Wendy reached gently for his hand but as her fingers rested, Jim was gone.

"You too." she whispered, taking her first horrifying step towards the Skyworld assemblage.

She didn't get far.

"Wendy! Wendy, Wendy!"

" _Michael_." Wendy turned, Michael's arms around her waist. Vaguely noticing his new suit, she hugged fiercely Sarah and John approached. "Michael you – Michael I'm sorry about the shadows. Did they hurt you? Are you alright?"

"Don't go back to the Underworld." Michael begged, ignoring John's reprimand. He clung harder, blonde head shaking against her chest. "Wendy please _don't go_. We need you here, you have to stay home –"

"Honey." Sarah touched his neck. Soothingly, she stroked his hair. "Honey. You and John discussed this. Remember? Wendy doesn't want to leave..."

Sarah met Wendy with such sadness she could hardly speak. "...so we don't want to make it harder when she has to go."

John hardened. Advancing as Sarah retreated, he joined Wendy and Michael, pausing only to remove his top hat. A tear stuck behind his glasses but he let it remain.

"Michael." John said crisply, taking Wendy's hand. "Let's say a proper goodbye."

It was all Wendy could do not to cry.

"Boys I..." she faltered, unable to find the right words. Her grief was compounding, ever so much more than the first time she left Fantasia and told her brothers goodbye. But still, the memory of that departure was heartening – a little.

"Do...do you remember that story I told you?" Wendy asked. She tried, but couldn't smile. "Right before I left Fantasia, so long ago? That story about the two brothers?"

John softened, recalling the bittersweet farewell. But Michael, who had only been a baby, tearfully asked. "What story?"

"It's about us." John remembered warmly. "It's a story about two magical brothers. Isn't it Wendy?"

"Us?" Michael sniffed, inhaling stray tears. "Magical? How?"

"Well." John prompted, nodding at Wendy. "Once upon a time..."

They shared a small smile.

"Once upon a time..." Wendy recommenced. "There was a little boy. And his brother. They were magical. And do you know why?"

Michael whimpered. John whispered his brother's intended reply. "No Wendy. Why were they magical?"

"Because John." Wendy said. "When these brothers were scared... they could be brave. And being brave Michael, is the hardest, most magical thing in the world."

They embraced, Michael surrounded by Wendy and John. And after Sarah joined with her own anguished farewell, John supported Michael, faced Wendy and lifted his chin.

"Come along Michael. Our sister is right. It's time to be brave."

Wendy watched them depart for the outdoor terrace to observe King Arthur's wedding, and to ease the burden of another goodbye.

"Yes." Wendy agreed. "It's time to be brave."

So with John's advice, Wendy resumed her journey to the Skyworld corner. Time was waning, groups were tightening together, the wedding party was assembling, the ceremony was soon to begin, and as Wendy approached the Skyworld gathering, she was greeted by grimaces.

"Excuse me." Wendy shivered. The Indians murmured, and she was suddenly embarrassed by her limp hair and wet dress. Clenching her bowler, Wendy tried to sound firm. "I need to speak with Peter. Please. If you know where he is, could you –"

"Ooo. Look who's wearing clothes." Tinkerbell slunk from behind Vidia, grin sparkling brighter than her emerald gown. "That's new for you, or so we hear. Tell me dear, aren't you feeling a little overdressed?"

Vidia smirked. Several Indians darkened.

Wendy felt _disgusting_. Not towards Tinkerbell. But towards herself.

"I –I – " Remembering Jim's instructions, Wendy searched for Chief Powhatan. As Tinkerbell slithered forward, she stammered. "Please if I could only – "

"Deserve Peter? The One and Only? Please, don't kid yourself, we know what you did. _Tramp_." Tinkerbell swished her green gown. "So go along. Go to the Underworld. I'm sure there's a _lovely_ _surprise_ waiting for you. So go. Go back underground you big, ugly – "

Suddenly Tinkerbell hushed. Peter Pan had entered, cutting the pixie's insult with a single glare. But as Peter stood before Wendy his glare intensified. Wendy held his gaze but trembled; Peter was unrecognizable. Already the confrontation was more horrifying that she _ever_ imagined.

"Peter." Wendy started, cognizant of their audience. "Peter, could we –"

"— Little Eagle." Peter corrected, acid in his mouth. " _Lady_ Shadow Worker."

Wendy winced. That hurt – his words _actually_ hurt.

" _Peter_." Wendy repeated, pouring all her strength into his name. "Please. We need to talk. Right now. Could we please go somewhere private?"

" _Private_!" Tinkerbell coughed. Snickers followed her insinuation.

Peter didn't move. "What you have to say, you can say before my friends. Unless..." his eyes flashed. "You haven't any last words. For once."

Wendy was furious. She was furious at his stubbornness, furious at his pride, furious that he was throwing everything away.

"Last words?" she demanded, "Is that all you want? My _last_ words?"

"Yes." Peter snarled. "So go ahead, Lady Shadow Worker. I'll give you all night, that's probably how long you'll take. Talk, talk, talk. So what are they?"

"My last words?"

"Yes."

"I won't need to say them."

"Why?"

"Because you already know my last words." Wendy stepped directly into Peter. "And there are only _three_."

In the silence, they both heard an invisible _I love you._

Wendy almost said them. But then Peter spoke.

"Remember when? Remember when I picked on you? Remember when I laughed at you? Remember when I made you cry? All those clever tricks just to get your attention. Just for you to _look_ at me. I knew what I was doing. I knew it was bad. And I knew I was going to Hell for all of it. But since then, I've tried to make up. I've tried to right every wrong...so when you died...and you went to Heaven... I could go with you."

Peter closed his eyes.

" _You're sorry_...?" he breathed. " _You're sorry because it just happened_?"

Slowly, Peter touched Wendy's thimble. The silver gleamed as he hooked it with finger and thumb.

"I guess..." Peter whispered, "I'm too evil a demon to ever be your angel."

He tugged. The necklace broke. Her thimble fell to his feet.

"Goodbye Wendy."

Peter turned, thimble flicking under his heel and rolling away.

Imagine the saddest song, the most heartbreaking melody, the dream that you realize will _never_ come true.

That was how Wendy felt. And those were the tears she cried as Jim appeared and pressed her cheek into his shoulder, unable to mend everything that had broken inside.

The lights dimmed. The music played. The stars twirled behind the rain.

King Arthur's wedding had begun.


	89. Chapter 89: Pirate and Princess

**Chapter 89: Pirate and Princess**

Hymns lifted into the air. The beautiful voices floated like snowflakes, announcing the arrival of Elsa, the king's bride. The assemblage turned as one, following King Arthur's gaze to his future queen. Nothing could have been more sacred. Even the rain hushed as every eye beheld the royal couple.

Perfect.

Sinbad made his move.

He went unnoticed by the hopeless romantics as they watched Elsa ascend the candlelit aisle. He crept silently to an open balcony, slipped under the awning shielding onlookers from the rain – and saw his wife.

Sinbad stared. And perhaps it was because they were at a wedding; or perhaps it was because of the heavenly hymn; or perhaps it was because Sarah was so beautiful –

\- regardless, Sinbad removed his bandanna.

He lingered too long – every instinct warned him to hurry. But Sinbad ignored his better judgments. If he was captured, this moment would make it worthwhile.

Sarah hadn't changed. Not really. The only difference was that she looked ... brighter, fresher, born anew. Painfully, Sinbad remembered the dark circles and worry lines he'd given as her husband. He remembered how worn she'd become as his wife; how she slaved through the rumors and poverty, just to make ends meet.

But now, here Sarah was: sunny despite her sadness, gorgeous in a violet dress. She was stunning.

She looked like a princess.

Sinbad swept his hair. After a debonair flick, he wove around two boys (one wearing a top hat, and one crying into his brother's lapel). Circling from behind, Sinbad grabbed Sarah's wrist, twisted her arm, locked it against him, and steered from the balcony.

" _Don't scream_." he rasped, free hand poised under her mouth. Lifting slightly, he drove Sarah against the wall, using the stone as an escape barrier. " _Walk_."

Sarah gasped. Then she hissed. " _You_."

Sinbad smiled. He was pretty sure a butterfly flew from his mouth, such was his pleasure. Sarah knew. She recognized him, despite the theatrics and disguised voice.

"Hello Princess." Sinbad answered, turning her head and forcing the kiss he'd withheld for ten years. It was _deliriously_ wonderful – exactly as Sinbad remembered and better than he dreamed.

Sarah wrenched away, breathing viciously. "You slimy, filthy – "

"Good, so all's forgiven." Sinbad murmured, resuming the kidnapping with a shove. Leaning to throw Sarah's balance as she attempted to pull out, he tightened his hold. "By the way. _Love_ the dress. Lavender is your color."

"Go to Hell!"

"Already have reservations."

"That's right, I made them!"

" _God_ you're _hot_." Sinbad's growled, urges roaring like lions. "Please tell me you're wearing black lingerie."

"You son of a – "

"— You can sweet talk later." Sinbad covered her mouth. Sarah had almost yelled, attracting several bystanders who turned, irritated by her outburst. Security guards were drifting from the Throne Room, investigating for the commotion.

"Okay Sarah, listen." Sinbad edged to a pillar. Back pressed against the marble to conceal his scimitar, he multitasked – scanning the wedding party while whispering his plan. "We need to get out of Fantasia right now. Where's Jim?"

Sarah elbowed, digging into his ribs. "Get _off_ me."

"Sarah – "

"Get your filthy hands off me!"

"Sarah listen, we need to get Jim –"

"Stay away from my son you - "

" _Sarah_!" Sinbad clamped her mouth. He squeezed, fingers sinking into her lips. "Sarah there is _going to be an_ _attack_!"

"By whom?" asked a voice deep as the sea.

Sinbad froze.

"Shit." he cursed, turning into Admiral Triton. "Well this spoils everything. Sarah – "

And before he could be declared under arrest, Sinbad seized Sarah and ran.

Admiral Triton followed. But as he alerted reinforcements, someone screamed in utter pain.

It was King Arthur.

* * *

 **sultal's note: I know the last chapter btwn Wen and Peter was a little rough. Sorry, hope this makes up for it a bit. Btw - I love how this chapter falls so close to Valentines Day. keep writing.**

 **The aforementioned "hymn" inspired by "** ** _Heimr Arnadalr"_ from the movie Frozen.**


	90. Chapter 90: The Frozen Heart

**Chapter 90: The Frozen Heart**

When she entered, every gaze fell on Elsa like she was the only light in the room. If Sinbad had looked at the king's bride, his pursuit of Sarah might have been stalled. Elsa was beautiful. Although she hadn't been crowned queen, she ascended the aisle as one. She was graceful, grand, and snowflakes glittered in her wake.

No one moved, save to genuflect as Elsa passed. The bridesmaids unfolded, peeling to either side. Anna smiled, spreading sunshine over the procession as Jack Frost, hidden under the proscenium arch, shivered with sadness. Headmaster Mickey waited aside King Arthur, a magical _Once Upon a Time_ book opened to a blank page that would be scripted as the couple wed.

King Arthur stood silently, elevated upon his dais, poised before his throne, crown erect, and Excalibur under his hand. As Elsa came near, Arthur's eyes ached but his expression was gentle.

Twice Arthur looked from Elsa. Once to find Peter Pan, a lost boy without direction or hope; and once to find Wendy and Jim, two best friends unable to heal each other's pain. Fingering Excalibur, Arthur tilted an ear, almost like he had asked the sword a question and was listening for the reply.

Suddenly, Arthur looked at Elsa. Directly.

And when Elsa dropped his gaze, Arthur understood what he had to do. Decision made, he released Excalibur and lifted his hand.

"Stop."

The wedding froze. Arthur hadn't spoken above a whisper but his command rang across the chamber. Elsa faltered, but after an alarmed blink she remained stationary. Jack crept forward. Peter frowned. Wendy felt Jim stiffen, and he felt her. Guests were confused, Headmaster Mickey most of all.

But the confusion turned into astonishment as Arthur removed his crown, descended the dais, and stood before Elsa, not as king but as Wart.

Whispers rippled across the court. Arthur waited for them to subside. When they had, he straightened to his full height (somehow seeming taller without his crown), and spoke.

"This is me." Arthur said, touching his chest. "Not a king. I'm just a man. A man that would not have a lady love me for pride or obligation. Or by royal decree."

All of Fantasia was still. But Elsa, slowly realizing what Arthur was going to demand of her, shed a snowflake tear. Magical snow began trickling from thin air, triggered by Elsa's emerging fear.

Arthur noticed the snow. He felt the cold. Nevertheless, he continued.

"I once said you do not love me. But then I discovered that _I_ did not know what love means. So I thought. And thought. And now... now that I have seen heartbreak in others... I know."

Arthur glanced at his guardians: Peter, Wendy, and Jim. He thought of Ariel, though she was not there. Then bravely, he returned to Elsa. And his next soliloquy, although it was hardly a stanza, no one would ever forget.

"Love is not kinda. Love is not sometimes, or if when, or once. Love is enduring, forever, and all. There is no intermediate. There is no inbetween. There is no hesitation. There is no regret. One either loves or one does not."

To Elsa, Arthur offered his hand.

"If we are to marry, you will love me as I am."

The words were spoken. The challenge was set. The gauntlet was thrown.

Elsa stared at King Arthur – she flickered fleetingly at Jack's overhanging frost –

-and painfully turned away.

The uproar was tumultuous.

"No." Wendy breathed. She stepped weakly towards Arthur, but Jim drew her back. Royal advisers and security forces were already condensing. People were shouting. Elsa was intercepted.

It was devastating, for all involved. Although Wendy pitied Elsa, Arthur's tragedy echoed her own sorrow.

"This is dreadful. This –"

Wendy found Arthur. The young king was numb, frozen to the spot Elsa had left him. He unfroze as Elsa suddenly ran, trying to escape the ruthless onlookers. Those who had witnessed her rejection were cursing on the king's behalf.

Arthur pressed his brow. As he strode to Elsa's rescue, Wendy's focus relaxed to a figure blocking her view.

Peter. She gazed at him. He looked at her.

Suddenly Wendy recoiled, struck by a frigid wind. Icy flurries followed, flinging sharp snowflakes. It was monstrous – had Jim not hugged her, Wendy might have been overblown.

"What the -?" Jim wrestled on his motorcycle helmet. Shielding Wendy from the gust, he peered through the snow. "What the hell is – oh my god. It's Elsa."

The snowstorm was building, swirling around Elsa, but Wendy understood without seeing. Elsa's powers were hardwired to her emotions – just like Ariel's trident and Wendy's shadow working. And when her emotions were strong – when fear overwhelmed – and she lost control –

"Jim!" Wendy swam through the snow. Remembering the Battle to Take Fantasia, when Elsa had created an eternal winter, she pushed frantically into the crowd. "Jim we have to stop Elsa, we have to help her! We – "

"Wendy wait!" Someone grabbed, wrenching her back. Red hair prickled the corner of her vision, but as Wendy turned Jack Frost darted overhead, spraying them with ice. Staff raised, Jack cut into Elsa's storm but was immediately toppled by the wind.

Elsa was gasping, clawing her hair, vying for control. Guards were attacking, heedless of Arthur's warning to stop. Finally, in an act of desperation, Arthur unsheathed Excalibur. The magical blade flashed as he sprinted into the snowstorm – called Elsa's name – promised that everything was going to be alright –

"I CAN'T!"

Elsa screamed. And as she cried, the storm collapsed. The winter magic whirled through Elsa's body, and exploded like a steel snowflake.

The shards flew, striking King Arthur's heart.

Arthur stumbled. He fell to his knees - g rasped his chest - and screamed in utter pain.

But Arthur's cry was underwhelmed by the dragon. The dragon that crashed through the rooftop, smiled at the fallen king, and breathed green flames.

* * *

... ... ...

* * *

 **sultal's VERY URGENT NOTE:**

 **(1) I'm not doing this on purpose at all - but my'real life' is about to become VERY busy. What I have to do will take all of my time for a while. Don't quote me, but I would expect only weekend updates (maybe) from now on.**

 **(2) That being said, I obsess over these characters and we still have half of the story left for this book. There is more to come, more confrontations, three VERY important characters that still need to be introduced, and love snarls to smooth.**

 **I promise to make EVERY effort to write when I can, to keep on a schedule of weekend updates.**

 **(3) So, again I should say this more, but thank you :) I made a video for all of you, with my favorite song in the whole world. It's about King Arthur, but I made it into a "Giving Fantasia" trailer-ish thing. **

**AND since Sinbad is a character I didn't expect people to love as much as you guys do, I added him in at the last minute (he's in the middle of the song).**

 **(4) The video can be found on my YouTube page (sultal wf). The video's title is**

Giving Fantasia Disney/Non Fanfiction - "My Kingdom"

 **(5) So, we all know I'm going to say it...so I might as well be cliche as possible.**

 **keep writing.**


	91. Ch 91: I See Fire, Inside the Mountain

**Chapter 91: I See Fire, Inside the Mountain.**

"Maleficent."

Jim and Wendy froze for a thunderstruck second.

Peter did not. Neither did Elsa.

"No!" Elsa stumbled into Jack as Peter flew for Arthur. "Arthur – "

 _Crack._ Maleficent landed, splitting the floor. The castle shattered like a broken spine. Columns collapsed and the floor caved as Maleficent blasted the remains with green fire.

Wendy felt the floor drop. The ground disappeared beneath her feet. With a grotesque twist, she swiped for the marble ledge. Her hand slapped stone but immediately released – the tiles were white hot! Maleficent's fire scalded the castle floor. Palm blood-red Wendy fell through the rift, flailing admits a thousand screams – hers among them.

"Shadow!" Wendy yelled. Her ears rang. Debris sliced her cheeks. She fell faster, and faster, heart pounding - body tensing for the inevitable impact, "Shadow, Shadow – ! "

Someone grabbed her arm. Wendy knew it was Shadow from the unhappy memories that followed, but the images were forgotten as her entire body snapped. Wendy shouted. The whiplash almost decapitated her, and the subsequent collision (Shadow couldn't control the fall) tore her breath away.

Wendy heaved upright. She blinked through dust and smoke. Then she saw the causalities.

And she screamed.

It was a massacre – a horror movie come to life. People were sobbing – holding eyeballs in their sockets, crawling over snapped limbs. Maleficent's fire illuminated each injury, displaying the slaughter like a perverted lightshow.

Wendy seized the nearest person – Mrs. Potts. The maid's white bonnet was soaked red. Rocks rained over Wendy's shoulders as she dragged the unconscious lady, searching for an exit. There was none. The ground floors were buckling, overwhelmed by the weight of crumbling floors above. Debris shot through the stonework as the earthquake accelerated, blinding the victims trapped inside.

Panicked, Wendy looked furiously for an escape. She combed her memory, searching for a solution, trying to remember who had been at King Arthur's wedding that could possibly help –

"Shadow!" Wendy groped through the flickering light. She found him between flashes of Maleficent's fire. "Skyworld! Underworld! They were at the wedding! Find the dwarves! Find Molière! And Vinny! Tell them to dig under the castle! Find the pixies so we can fly people under – "

Maleficent roared above, flooding the Throne Room with fire. Wendy threw and arm, shielding Mrs. Potts as green flames spiraled into the rift. The fire did not touch them but the heat was _tremendous_. Dread hit Wendy – they were going to be _burned alive_.

"Everyone down!" Wendy shouted, lowering Mrs. Potts as she called. Helplessly engaging an elementary school mantra ( _stop – drop – and roll_ ), she started shoving people to the ground, pushing them under the smoke and forcing them to protect their faces. Her stomach lurched at every blood stain and black burn, but Wendy continued until she found Doc and Grumpy – two of her seven dwarves.

"Can you dig -?" Wendy mimed, trying be understood over the chaos. "—under the castle?! These people – we have to get out!"

Wendy's urgency – if not her exact message – was understood. Rolling their sleeves, Doc and Grumpy did what dwarves do best – they dug. Even without shovels they cleared rubble like bulldozers.

Wendy joined the dwarves, desperate to help. Little muscles straining, she lugged rocks and cupped handfuls of gravel. Although her efforts paled compared to the dwarves, Wendy suddenly buckled as the earth disintegrated and opened into –

"A tunnel?!"

Doc withdrew Wendy as Grumpy burrowed into their hole. Miraculously, Wendy was right: they had dug into a preexisting tunnel.

"Yep!" Grumpy waved over his shoulder. "Rabbit tunnel! Giant rabbit tunnel! C'mon! Inside!"

Wendy didn't wait. She began directing people to the rabbit tunnel. Whether or not the tunnel was safe was immaterial: the castle was burning. They had to escape.

"Follow the dwarves! Keep moving, don't stop!" Wendy eased Mrs. Potts into the tunnel. Sweat trickled under her bowler as Maleficent ignited the rift. "Doc, faster! Move faster! The fire – "

An eruption blew Wendy away. Without warning the walls exploded. Stones combusted. A shockwave threw Wendy like a doll. Peter's shadow leapt, catching her as the tower collapsed and hurling her with the momentum.

Wendy fell through the rubble and slammed onto cobblestone. Lights sparked behind her eyes. She couldn't move. She couldn't breathe. But as Peter's shadow dragged her through the Fantasian streets, Wendy noticed: the cobblestone was hot.

Wendy tottered upright. She turned to the sky.

And she saw what had caused the explosion.

Dragons. Hundreds. _Hundreds_ of Vikings on _hundreds_ of dragons.

* * *

 **...**

* * *

Peter responded first. Ignoring his confusion, he seized Arthur and flew. Similarly Jack grabbed Elsa and skittered after Peter.

Maleficent reacted immediately. She leapt across the walls, blocking Peter's escape. Jack sprayed ice as Peter doubled back, but Maleficent pounced, slithering between the crumbling columns and meeting their every move.

"Come here little king." Flames dripped between Maleficent's teeth. Her fire pooled as Arthur slowly regained his footing with Peter's support. "And little ice queen too. Come out and play."

Peter crouched as Maleficent coiled around a pillar. With three seconds to spare, he bolstered Arthur, glanced at Jack, and yelled "Split!" before sprinting in the opposite direction.

Jack darted left as Peter hurtled right. Maleficent swerved indecisively for Jack before lunging at Peter. The Throne Room overflowed with fire as Peter tumbled over the rift and stuck stone. As Maleficent fired a second blast, Jim hauled Peter and Arthur into the corridor.

"You had ONE JOB PAN!" Jim hunched under Arthur's shoulder. Fire glimmered off his motorcycle helmet as he growled at Peter. "Simple yes or no – is there going to be an attack!? The answer is YES! What kind of guardian are you –?! "

"Maleficent!" Peter roared, propelling Jim and Arthur through the frenzied crowd. "Is NOT a Viking!"

"She's a dragon! You were supposed to look for DRAGONS!"

"Are you CRAZY!? She's back from the dead! How the hell was I supposed to – "

"Maybe if you weren't so busy F'ing Wendy – !"

"In her dreams you piece of – !"

"HEY!" Frost stabbed their shoulders. Jack glared overhead, Elsa stumbling behind his invisible pull. "This castle is going to pop we have to get out right - "

"What's wrong with him?" Elsa reached for Arthur. She withdrew tearfully as Jim shouted, forcing her back. Icicles bristled under her palm as Arthur half turned, one hand on his chest. Elsa's winter magic was fading beneath his tunic, but the glow throbbed erratically inside his heart like a skipped beat.

Elsa stopped. Horrified she retreated, resisting Jack's pull.

"No." Elsa whispered, squeezing her icy hands. "What did I – ?"

"Elsa." Arthur began, trying to upright. He stumbled as Jim and Peter pulled. "Elsa – it's – "

" _Old King Cold was a merry old soul, and a merry old soul was he_..." Maleficent calmly chanted. Fire chased the Fantasians through the castle. Amused, Maleficent continued to sing. " _He called for his queen, and he called for his sword, and he called for his guardians please_!"

Simultaneously, Jim and Peter increased speed.

"Take Arthur - fly him somewhere safe!" Jim ran for the stairs. Immediately he slipped as the marble crumbled to dust. Peter saved the fall, but their descent was followed by wet screams and a sickening splat. Apart from Jack and Elsa, the trailing Fantasians hadn't survived. Arthur turned, but Peter drove him away.

Jim suddenly thought of his mother, Michael, and John. _And Wendy!_ He inhaled sharply, brain buzzing. _Holy shit where was she? Where were their brothers, his mom?! He had to get them out!_

Arthur read his mind.

"Wait no!" Arthur struggled, his strength returning. Elsa's winter magic had ebbed to a lingering cold – like an ice cube against his heart. "I'm staying! My people – "

"Save it!" Jim veered from a groaning arch. The structure would never stand. Abruptly, he steered to a sturdier hallway. "Maleficent wants you and Elsa! Elsa I don't care about, but we're getting you out!"

"No!" Arthur swung, trying to rip away. "I'm not – "

"Correction!" Jim flung Arthur at Peter. Arthur toppled. Peter instantly braced the king's arms. "You are! We're bigger than you! We're stronger than you! And I don't give a damn if you have Excalibur – you are the king! If you die, Fantasia dies! So shut up and – "

"DUCK!" Jack shouted, covering Elsa's head as the rooftop exploded. "HOLD ON I SEE FIRE – "

It happened inside a single jolt. Arthur and Elsa, protected by Peter and Jack, dropped from the castle. Stone avalanched over their bodies, shoving them into the screaming metropolis.

Jim vaulted backwards as the Viking army demolished the tower. Dragons swarmed the castle, spitting red, orange, yellow, blue, and purple flames. Maleficent's fire poured green into the bloodbath as she hunted the king and snow queen.

Jim screamed inside his helmet as the graphene conducted heat. Blisters started to boil – his skin stung like it had been splashed in hot oil. Teeth grit, Jim tore through the havoc. Somehow he crashed into the streets –

-and saw his mother.

She was running back _towards_ the castle!

Jim scampered. Hoarsely he shouted out. Sarah turned. Her hair was undone, and it strung wildly over her eyes as she stumbled behind a man... a man that was _forcing_ her up the burning staircase and into _Fantasia School for the Magically Skewed_. Into the dragons. Into the fire. Into the danger.

"Mom!"

Jim never ran harder. Dragon fire whipped harmlessly over his helmet as he gained distance – his feet digging – his arms pumping – his fingers reaching – attacking the man – hurling him to the ground – turning him over – ripping back a fist –

-and freezing.

"D - a -"

Jim stared. Petrified. Arm arched over his helmet. Memories roaring inside his head.

"Sinbad."

* * *

 **...**

 **sultal's note: Title inspired by "I See Fire" by Ed Sheeran (The Hobbit soundtrack)**


	92. Ch 92: I See Fire, Burning the Trees

**Chapter 92: I See Fire, Burning the Trees.**

The attack surprised Sinbad. And when the robotic spacer stopped and stammered his name, Sinbad was surprised even more. The spacer sounded scared. So scared, he didn't follow through with his punch.

That was mistake number two. Mistake number one had been the initial attack.

Sinbad kicked, throwing the spacer off him. The spacer crashed halfway down the castle steps before scrambling upright and surprising Sinbad again. Sinbad had expected the spacer to counter-attack. But he did not. Instead, the spacer ran to _Sarah_. He was not fighting ; he was attempting a rescue.

"Ohhhhhhh NO YOU DON'T!" Sinbad yelled, scimitar flashing over his back. Sarah had been knocked unconscious from the fall, and the spacer was already gathering her arms and legs. "Not my woman, pal! Get ready to scream like you've never – "

The spacer unbuckled a blaster and aimed. The instant he pulled the trigger Sinbad sliced the nozzle with a single swipe. Black energy combusted within the barrel and backfired into the spacer, blasting him into the street.

Sinbad heard the spacer shout. He saw the helmet pop off his head. But he didn't stop to look at the spacer's face – Sinbad cradled Sarah and bolted inside the burning school.

It was an _insane_ move, even for Sinbad. _Fantasia School for the Magically Skewed_ crumbled beneath his every step. Nevertheless, Sinbad charged into the flames.

It was the only way to escape.

Fantasia was burning to the ground – Sinbad knew he would _never_ reach ocean. Ruber, Captain Hook, and Pitch would soon appear to complete the bloodshed. Moreover, the Vikings, their dragons, Admiral Triton, and that _freaking_ spacer dude were blocking his escape.

So, Sinbad decided to leave the way he'd came: via the swimming pool. And he had about three minutes to get there before the school collapsed.

He didn't make it. At least, not exactly. Following an enormous thunderclap, the roof split. Staircases groaned and walls exploded as the top floors tumbled down like pancakes. Although Sinbad was near the bottom floor, the pool was below ground level and in a few seconds it would literally be buried underground.

Sarah jerked awake as Sinbad slid over debris, falling with the momentum. She shouted as Sinbad suddenly wrenched upright, looked over the banister, and squinted below. The floors were splitting apart – and through the cracks, Sinbad could _just_ _see_ flashes of the aquamarine swimming pool.

Sinbad glanced at the plummeting roof. He looked down at the swimming pool.

Sinbad considered.

 _If they jumped…._

Sarah heard the decision click inside his head.

"No!" she cried as Sinbad hauled her over the banister. Terrified, she pulled away. "No, don't-"

"Sarah we – " Wreckage showered down. Coughing, Sinbad floundered for Sarah. "Come on! The roof's going to cave, we gotta jump for it!"

"No!" As Sinbad climbed over the banister Sarah took one look at the downward plunge and begged. "No, no, no, STOP! Don't I can't – ! "

"Are you kidding!?" Sinbad shrieked. "Seriously?! The afraid of heights thing?! Oh for the love of - "

Sinbad perched Sarah on his hip. Seizing the rail, he pressed Sarah into his neck and jumped.

They fell, crashing into the swimming pool as _Fantasia School for the Magically Skewed_ collapsed.

One arm around Sarah, Sinbad seized a grappling hook - the line which was still tethered faithfully to _The Princess_. With a kick he pushed through the drain, under the castle, into the ocean, and out of Fantasia.

 _The Princess_ was waiting. Sinbad floated backwards, supporting his unconscious wife. He flagged his crew. Eret, Tulio, Marina, Miguel, Vlad, and Dimitri hauled them aboard.

They were safe.

As they sailed from the burning horizon, Sinbad's only regret was that he hadn't saved Jim – his baby boy.

Correction… his probably _dead_ baby boy.

* * *

… **...…**

* * *

"Son of a BITCH!" Jim stormed the castle steps. "Son of a freaking – "

"Jim look out!"

Jim lurched, tumbling backwards over Wendy as dragon fire slammed into the castle – exactly where he had been heading. The entryway exploded as two more dragons hurtled overhead.

"Jim stop!" Wendy wrestled as Jim struggled for the castle. "You can't go in there! You'll be killed!"

"He's got Mom!" Jim batted at burning coals as they dripped from the sky. "Wen he kidnapped Mom!"

"Kidnapped? Who?"

"Sinbad!"

" _What_?"

Flames suddenly burst behind Wendy. Instinctively Jim grabbed and rolled, throwing them out of danger as the rider responsible whooped. "Snoutlout! Snoutlout! Oi! Oi! Oi!"

Snoutlout's attack was followed by a two headed dragon – one head exhaled green gas as the other blew sparks to ignite the fuse. The combustion boomed like an atom bomb. Had Jim not curled his graphene suit over Wendy, they would have both been killed.

"Jim!" Wendy coughed. Her cheeks glowed against the fire. "Jim we have to – "

"I know! Where's Arthur?"

"I don't know! I didn't see - "

"He was with Peter before we got separated! Shit! Okay Wen we need - "

"Jim we _need_ Ariel!" Wendy said. "She could electrify the dragons with her trident! Or - "

"Or Peter could pick off the Vikings!"

Jim ran, lifting Wendy over a smoldering body. "Wendy we need to find Peter and Arthur! Once we find them, you take Arthur someplace safe and I'll cover Peter as he knocks Vikings from the dragons!"

" _You'll_ cover Peter?" Wendy motioned at the dragons. "How _on earth_ are you going to cover Peter?! I should do it - you can't fly!"

"Neither can you!"

"But I can shadow work!"

"Wendy this is not about a power play!"

"This is not about being foolish either!"

"Wendy I need you to be safe!"

"Oh DON'T start THAT again!"

"Wendy Moria _come on_! Work with me before something worse happens - "

Jim stopped. Both stopped.

Together they stared.

Fantasia was ravaged. _Everything_ was burning. The rooftops. The towers. The hills. The trees. Smoke filled the sky. Ash poisoned the air. The streets hissed with lava. And the Fantasians – every man, woman, and child – were screaming.

However, the people were _not_ running away from the dragons. They were being corralled _towards_ the dragons by a second army. An army of undead villains. An army led by an old, evil, _familiar_ pirate–

"Captain Hook."

Jim saw Wendy's needle extract. The silver glinted in the firelight as she breathed beside him.

"Ready, Jim?"

Jim nodded. "Wen, don't die."

Wendy agreed.

"Don't you dare." she whispered, sprinting into the pirates.

Jim followed. For a second they ran together. Then they separated as Wendy collided with Facilier's shadow. Wendy shouted. The shadow screeched. Jim forced himself to continue, to trust Wendy's ability as he charged Captain Hook's army with bare hands.

It was a fair fight until Mulan threw Jim her pistol – then the advantaged turned _overwhelmingly_ to Jim. After all, piracy was in Jim's blood – he did not fight to win, and he did not fight to lose. He fought to kill. And as Ruber's militia reinforced Captain Hook's, Jim and Mulan drove them back.

Until –

"Well. Lord Outerworld."

Pitch Black unfolded from the outskirts. Enclosed by snarling nightmares, he attacked. Jim fought, but the nightmares tore into his mind like sharks.

"Nothing without your little shadow worker, are you?"

Delightedly Pitch fingered Jim's brain for memories. He smiled, watching the memories reassemble into nightmares. "Oh yes, Lord Outerworld. Yes I've been looking for you."

* * *

… **...…**

* * *

"Shadow! Shadow don't let it – "

A dragon tail lashed across Wendy's stomach. Doubled over, she skid backwards across the pavement. Facilier's shadow pursued, diving into her mind.

"Shadow!" Wendy searched furiously for a happy thought to deflect Facilier's shadow until Peter's arrived. Unable to find one, she groped for Facilier's shadow as memories reeled through her – _her mother's death – Jim screaming for Ariel – Peter throwing her from his life –_

Ice crystals suddenly exploded over Wendy, throwing Facilier's shadow into the fire. Jack Frost darted by with Elsa, pausing only to salute Wendy with his staff.

Wendy had an idea. Hurriedly, she flung Peter's shadow after Facilier's.

"Shadow, don't let him free!" Wendy ordered, sprinting after Elsa and Jack. "Keep that shadow away from Facilier! Jack! JACK STOP! Jack use your magic! Put out the fire!"

Jack kept running. Wendy called again but Jack did not hear – he was pulling Elsa to safety, lifting her into the air. Elsa was struggling, trying to douse the dragon fire, but Jack would not let her go. Wendy quickly saw why – Captain Hook's army was targeting Elsa. They were trying to capture her. Jack was helping her escape.

"Wait!" Elsa cried as Jack scooped her into the air. "Wait! Jack!"

Wendy looked up. There were too many dragons – Jack and Elsa would never escape, even with their winter magic. The dragon army was enormous. Their fire filled the sky. Their metallic bodies covered all of Fantasia with one monstrous shadow –

"Shadows."

Wendy's fingertips prickled. She scanned the dragons.

Without thinking she seized a dragon's shadow and pulled.

* * *

… **...…**

* * *

Chief Stoick was a warrior. But when he saw the first child die, he knew the war was wrong.

So did Astrid.

"Hiccup!" Astrid yelled as the dragons descended. Breaking from the formation, she pointed over Stormfly's spikes. "Hiccup there are CHILDREN down there!"

Hiccup squinted, wind rushing through his hair. There _were_ children. He saw children hugging stuffed animals, crying in the streets, looking for their parents.

"No..."

Hiccup wheeled upwards at the last second. Flames curled under Toothless as he surveyed the destruction.

Hiccup's vengeance withered to confusion as he watched the Fantasians flee – obviously unprepared for the attack.

"They didn't know we were coming…" Hiccup murmured, remembering Drago's prior comment – that the Fantasians _'were not expecting an attack._ ' Mystified, Hiccup shook his head. "But Fantasia _killed_ our _king_. Why wouldn't they be expecting – DAD!"

Hiccup veered Toothless through the ranks. He swerved under Maleficent as the witch flew, Drago riding on her back.

Frantically Hiccup hollered to Stoick.

"Dad! There are kids! KIDS! Drago was right the Fantasians weren't expecting – "

"I know son!"

Stoick punched both knees into Skullcrusher, his rumblehorn dragon. Skullcrusher roared, beckoning the dragons higher.

"Don't panic – the plan's changed! Ye and Astrid lead the pack into the sky, away from the Fantasians! Be ready to attack but only in groups and ONLY on my command! Gobber, Spitelout, and I will find King Arthur and – "

"No!" Drago roared, sweeping Maleficent between Hiccup and Stoick. "No, we attack! Find the king! And the snow queen! And the guardians! Bring them to Pitch – "

"Pitch?" Hiccup spurred Toothless at Drago. He swerved as Maleficent snapped. "Who is Pitch? We're here to avenge The King, not raid for someone else – "

"And not te kill senselessly!" Stoick raised his axe. "So ye follow my command Drago Bludvist or I'll stick ye like a – "

"ARRRRAAHHHHH!" Drago bellowed, bullhook swinging over his head. Every dragon twitched wildly as Drago cast his hypnotic spell. The dragon riders flailed but were unable to control their dragons. Stoick flung his axe at Drago but the shot flew wide as Skullcrusher thrashed, throwing Stoick's aim.

"Dragons!" Drago roared, pointing to Fantasia. "ATTACK!"

Drago plunged. The dragons followed, breathing fire and ripping Fantasians to shreds.

"Toothless!" Hiccup stomped the saddle gears, lowering the angle of Toothless' prosthetic tailfin. Toothless jackknifed, his flight pattern forcibly changed by the fin.

But regardless of Hiccup's efforts, Toothless strove mindlessly for Fantasia.

"Hiccup!" Astrid called as Stormfly sprayed Fantasians with venomous spines. Behind Astrid, Fishlegs was sobbing as Meatlug belched molten rocks. Ruffnut and Tuffnut were banging Belch and Barf with their helmets. Snoutlout was screaming like a girl.

"Hiccup!" Astrid cried. "What do we do?! What do we - whoaaaaaaaaaaaa!"

Astrid nearly dislodged from her saddle as Stormfly lurched downwards. Struggling to contain Toothless, Hiccup peered. Stormfly's behavior was strange: it was as if the dragon were being yanked by an invisible rope. Moreover – Drago's spell was _breaking_.

Stormfly squawked, blinked, her pupils dilated, and _suddenly_ she regained her senses.

Then something _else_ happened. Something haunting. Stormfly wailed. It was almost like the dragon was crying; it was almost like the dragon was afraid.

And as Stormfly wailed, Hiccup witnessed the impossible.

Stormfly's shadow (yes her _shadow_ ) _stretched_. Hiccup looked down, following the shadow to a tiny blue fleck – a girl. Hiccup's mouth dropped as the girl yanked the shadow, Stormfly, and Astrid to earth.

"What in the name of Thor…?"

Astrid and Stormfly hit. The Fantasian militia immediately pounced, showering the dragon with blades and chains.

"Astrid!" Hiccup released all restraint on Toothless. He didn't want to hurt the Fantasians - but Stormfly and Astrid were severely outnumbered.

"Toothless go!' he cried, hurtling to Astrid and Stormfly's aid.

* * *

… **...…**

* * *

Peter summoned rain, thunder, lighting, and wind but _nothing_ could wipe the dragons away. Skyworld was taken, there was no way to fly Arthur through the blockade. They would be killed by dragon fire the second they tried.

Unless… they were shielded.

"We need Jack Frost!" Peter dragged Arthur over smoldering rubble. The young king was fighting, but weakening with every attempt. As Peter searched for Jack and Elsa he suddenly noticed – Arthur's hair was streaked white.

"We'll only escape by flying!" Peter continued, dictating his plan aloud. "If we fly through those dragons, Jack and Elsa can shield the fire with ice! So we just have to find – "

"Peter let go!"

Peter dodged – Arthur had resorted to punching. "Wart, stop it! You – "

"Let go of me!" Arthur persisted. "We have to help— "

A dragon plunged. Peter tumbled, protecting Arthur from the onslaught. As Peter uprighted, Arthur reached for his sword.

"Wart you are _really_ not getting this!" Peter locked Arthur's arms, withholding him from Excalibur. "We need to get you out! You are the king – "

"Then I COMMAND you to let me go!"

Arthur thrashed. Peter held, but was astounded by Arthur's anger. And irritated.

"Wart, knock it off!"

"No _you_ knock it off! Just look! Look around!" Savagely, Arthur jerked. "People are dying Peter! People are _dying_! And I am not going to run away from them! So LET GO!"

"Aww. Heroism. Selflessness." Behind them, a silky voice snickered. "How touching."

Peter turned, drawing Arthur. He growled.

Captain Hook smiled back.

"Ruber." Captain Hook motioned to a giggling, barrel chested man. "Might I introduce Peter Pan… and His Majesty." The pirate raised his hook. "King Arthur Pendragon. Lord of Fantasia. The Once and Future King."

Peter did not hesitate. As Captain Hook signaled Ruber to attack, Peter seized Arthur and flew.

But at that moment, a dragon fell from the sky – a dragon flung down by its shadow.

* * *

… **...…**

* * *

Stormfly spun into Peter and Arthur.

Peter screamed as Stormfly's barbed tail scratched his back to ribbons. Too stunned to maneuver, Peter threw Arthur from under Stormfly and thud to the ground. He crawled painfully beneath the panicked dragon as Astrid leapt from her saddle, axe swinging.

Distantly Peter heard Excalibur ring. Arthur shouted, somehow recovering his broken army. Captain Lee Shang and Admiral Triton acted on Arthur's cue, splitting forces to assault the grounded dragon _and_ Captain Hook's men.

Stormfly thrashed as the Fantasian's attacked, trapping Peter beneath her. Peter hobbled into the air but collided with Stormfly's flank as she tossed against the Fantasian's chains.

Peter scrambled on all fours. Stormfly flailed furiously above him. Rather than subduing the dragon, the chaos had only _increased_ her aggression.

Back stinging, Peter clawed desperately for an escape when someone hooked under his arms and pulled.

"Fly! Hurry, Peter you have to fly!"

Peter fumbled backwards as his savior stumbled. He twisted. "Wend –?"

BANG.

Wendy and Peter burst apart as Toothless shot between them. Toothless swept skyward then immediately dove, launching a second attack.

Wendy heard the dragon screaming for her, but she _couldn't_ _move_. The battle was _exhausting_ – her body ached from the explosions, her lungs stung with smoke, and her head throbbed with unhappy thoughts. Breathlessly, Wendy clawed for safety, but Toothless bombarded her like a missile.

"Wendy here –!"

Arthur snatched Wendy as Toothless fired. Plasma sprinkled harmlessly he pulled her from harm.

"Arthur!" Wendy wheezed, clinging to him in fear. Trembling she searched through the blaze. "Arthur you shouldn't be here! You should - Oh no! Where is -? Arthur where is Peter?"

Arthur dismissed her concern.

"Wendy, the dragons!"

Arthur gestured at Stormfly, still struggling as Astrid fought. He ducked as Toothless sliced over their heads. "Wendy did you bring down that dragon?"

"Yes!" Wendy splayed her hands, "Their shadows! I don't know how but – "

"Okay look! Directly up! That dragon!" Arthur pointed, finger trailing Skullcrusher as Stoick sailed overhead.

"Wendy I need you get that red and green dragon, right now! It's rider is Chief Stoick – leader of the Vikings! If we can capture Stoick we might be able to get them to stop! Okay?"

Wendy found Skullcrusher. Her lip quivered as the dragon beheaded a Fantasian and threw the body into a hungry flock.

Arthur grabbed Wendy's shoulder. Earnestly, he repeated. " _Okay_?"

"Al-alright!" Resolutely Wendy curled her fists. "I can do it."

"Good! Let's – "

Arthur paused. Lowering Excalibur, he clutched his heart.

"Arthur?" Wendy crouched worriedly as Shang supported the king. "Arthur what's wrong? Arthur are you alright?"

"Yes. Fine." Arthur breathed. He wiped his bangs – several locks had turned white. "Okay Wendy. Captain Shang…"

Arthur twirled Excalibur. "Let's go!"

They ran – Shang shielding Arthur and Arthur shielding Wendy. Wendy grabbed dragon shadows as they crossed the battlefield, trying to clear the way. Her motions were quick, hardly enough to overthrow the dragons, but as Wendy shadow-worked the dragons _miraculously_ calmed. It was as if they were waking from a magical trance.

Unbeknownst to Wendy, that was _exactly_ the effect. Both shadow working and hypnosis occupy the _mind_. Therefore, as Wendy shadow-worked she recalibrated the dragons, freeing them from Drago's hypnotic spell.

Drago noticed the sudden change.

"You! Night fury!" Drago and Maleficent flapped over Toothless. Toothless (still hypnotized) lashed against Hiccup as Drago pointed at Wendy. "The shadow worker! Kill her!"

"Bud – " Hiccup rocked as Toothless tore faster than the speed of sound. Calling for Astrid, Hiccup switched saddle gears but Toothless had already nosedived. The pair dropped in a vertical plunge as Wendy seized Skullcrusher's shadow.

Hiccup heard Skullcrusher howl before he saw the dragon careening toward them. Skullcrusher was falling uncontrollably by his shadow; Toothless was diving mindlessly into his path. Hiccup gasped – the dragons were going to collide.

"Toothless wait!" Hiccup wrenched sideways, trying to steer Toothless away. "Toothless snap out of it! Bud! _Bud_!"

* * *

… **...…**

* * *

Toothless and Skullcrusher smashed. White and purple flames crackled as the dragons hit. Stoick tumbled off Skullcrusher, but Hiccup managed to stay saddled.

Stoick bellowed for Hiccup. Dazed, Hiccup turned as a blond boy attacked his father with a shimmering sword. Skullcrusher and Drago quickly obscured his view, but Hiccup could still hear Stoick calling.

Shield in hand, Hiccup began to dismount when Toothless suddenly vaulted over the cobblestone and tackled a girl. Not expecting Toothless' sudden movement, Hiccup pitched forward. The girl (trapped under Toothless) looked up as Hiccup fell.

Hiccup was surprised - he recognized the girl. She was the shadow worker, the one that had pulled Stormfly _and_ Skullcrusher from the sky.

Unexpectedly, the girl gasped. " _You_?"

Hiccup started, flabbergasted. _She knew him?_ "Me?"

"No the drag – "

Hiccup's mouth dropped for the second time that night. For as the girl spoke, Toothless shuddered, broke from Drago's hypnotic spell, and kissed her. Oblivious to the battle (or Hiccup), Toothless licked the girl like a puppy.

"Wait – wait –wait!" The girl swam under Toothless, trying to stand. Hiccup bounced in his saddle as Toothless ecstatically chased, nipping the girl's hat and bumping her stomach. "Wait a moment stop! This - wait please – "

" _Toothless_!?" Hiccup dismounted, unsheathing his short sword. The sword was called _Inferno_ ; Hiccup had invented a mechanism to coat the blade with fire.

"Get away!" Hiccup ordered the girl, igniting Inferno and swinging it like a torch. "Get away from my dragon shadow worker! Don't hurt him! Leave him – "

"I'm not going to hurt him!" The girl stumbled as Hiccup swung. "Please listen! I know your dragon – I met him in the Underworld! He was hurt, we fed him magic fish sticks and – "

 _Magic what sticks what? What in the name of Thor?_

"I have _no_ idea what you are talking about!" Hiccup yelled. "You tore our dragons from the sky and now they are being attacked!"

"You attacked us first!" The girl shouted as Toothless barked, trying to appease them. "You attacked us without warning, without reason, without – oh you evil, horrid -!"

Abruptly the girl curled her wrist, exposing a handguard. Toothless swerved warily. Hiccup back-stepped, unsure if he should advance. Her handguard didn't look like a weapon. It was stocked only with a needle and thread. But still...

The girl stared at him fiercely, almost brutally. Hiccup frowned - she looked ready to cry.

"Stop your dragons _now_." the girl warned, glare burning in the firelight. "Or I will _make_ you."

Hiccup didn't have a chance to respond. He didn't even have a chance to _think_.

Because two people screamed.

One person was King Arthur. Arthur was caught in Maleficent's claws, struggling helplessly as she screamed into the sky, Excalibur in her heart.

The second person was Stoick. The Viking chief was dead.

* * *

 **sultal's note: chapter title inspired by "I See Fire" by Ed Sheeran (The Hobbit soundtrack)**

 **p.s. As Arthur mentioned in a previous chapter (when he was referencing The Battle to Take Fantasia) THIS is EXACTLY why it helps to have a shadow worker on your team. I want to get more into the warfare aspect of it later, but shadow workers are either dang helpful or destructive (aka Wendy vs Pitch). They're like the 'escalating factors.'**


	93. Ch 93: I See Fire, Hollowing Souls

**Chapter 93: I See Fire, Hollowing Souls.**

When Wendy dismantled Stoick, Arthur struck the Viking chief with all his strength.

Arthur _knew_ he would lose (and he did). He was no match for Stoick. Excalibur's magic empowered Arthur as _king_ , not as a _killer_. Stoick was a giant with super-human strength. The Vikings alleged that when Stoick was a baby, he popped a dragon's head clean off its shoulders. And it was true.

So when Arthur crossed Excalibur with Stoick's cast-iron axe, he lost. Stoick deflected Arthur with a blow that _Merlin_ felt across time.

Stoick _annihilated_ Arthur. But it didn't matter. What mattered was that King Arthur did not abandon his people as they died on his behalf. He defied _anyone_ to attack their kingdom under his reign.

Yes, Arthur was a protector, a defender of his people.

Much... actually _exactly_...like Chief Stoick.

"Hold little king!" Stoick shoved a knee into Arthur's neck, pinning him down. With the other, he secured Excalibur against the gravel. "It takes more than bravery to protect yer land!"

Arthur cringed, searching unsuccessfully for Wendy as brimstone singed his face.

"Stoick!" he pushed Stoick's knee. It didn't budge. "Stoick what are you _doing_? If you want me then take me, but leave my people alone!"

Stoick frowned. "What?"

"LEAVE MY PEOPLE ALONE!"

It was _then_ that Stoick knew - Arthur had _not_ murdered the Otherland king.

Until this moment, Stoick had been caught between his own suspicions and Hiccup's assertions, but King Arthur's comment tipped the scale.

Stoick connected the dots. All his suspicions added up. One, Drago had misspoken before, he had predicted the Fantasians would not expect the ambush. Two, the Vikings were mysteriously reinforced by an undead army, something that Drago had neglected to mention. Three, Fantasia was not prepared for war. If Fantasia _had_ slain the Otherland's king, they surely would have been.

And finally, King Arthur had just offered himself in exchange for his people's safety. _That_ was the sign of a king. It was _not_ the sign of a power-hungry murderer.

But just to be sure, Chief Stoick asked.

"Did ye kill the Otherland king?"

Arthur struggled. "What?"

Stroick leaned into his knee, holding Arthur still. "Did ye kill the Otherland king?"

Arthur's lip curled. " _I_ don't kill the innocent, _Stoick_."

"Thor's beard. HICCUP!" Stoick hauled Arthur by his scruff. Unconsciously batting Shang's arrows as they zipped for his face, Stoick barreled for Skullcrusher. "HICCUP! By the name of – where is that boy? Hiccup! We need to mount before – "

Arthur rammed into Stoick. He almost dislocated a shoulder. Nevertheless valiant, Arthur swung Excalibur, but Stoick effortlessly slapped it down.

Arthur didn't give up.

"Call off your Vikings!" he demanded. "Call off your dragons or I'll – "

"Doof it in yer helmet!" Stoick growled, expending an _indelicate_ Viking adage in his frustration. "We've been fooled, hit right in the blind spot! It's Drago that wants ye, not me! They're after ye - but it doesn't matter!"

Stoick lugged Arthur to Skullcrusher, elbowing Shang along the way. "Yer coming w' me. I'm taking ye to Berk until this sorts out! Move it, we have to fly while Skullcrusher is freed from Drago's spell—"

Arthur was stunned. His brain back-flipped, trying to rationalize Stoick's claims.

"Your dragons are killing my people..." Arthur finally spluttered, voice raising as he spoke. "And now you're trying to _rescue_ me?!"

Stoick grasped Skullcrusher's horn. "'Bout right."

Arthur commenced a second attack. "WHAT? That's - NO! Stoick CALL OFF your DRAGONS! NOW!"

Stoick was aggravated.

"By Odin! Before I make ye eat my axe! Shut yer mouth and _get on_ the bloody drag – "

Arthur punched, cracking Stoick's cheekbone. Stoick _almost_ broke Arthur's scrawny, little neck.

"Finally! Ye had a good shot!" Stoick slung Arthur over Skullcrusher's saddle. "Just sit and be quiet! Skullcrusher! Calm boy, calm –!"

Skullcrusher bayed, smelling the intruder and trying to toss Arthur off. Unruffled, Stoick climbed, simultaneously subduing and commanding his dragon. "Easy boy, that's a dragon! Skullcrusher we're going to Berk! Fly behind the smoke so Drago won't see. If we find Hiccup – "

"Stoick!" Arthur pointed helplessly under the Viking's arm. "Stoick behind, it's Maleficent – "

Stoick reacted to Arthur's warning, throwing them off the saddle as Maleficent and Drago attacked. Maleficent spit green flames. Her fire gushed over Skullcrusher as Stoick tumbled with Arthur undertow.

The monarchs landed together, but Arthur rose first. Lifting Excalibur, he seized Stoick's forearm and hoisted the Viking beside him. United, they confronted Maleficent, Drago, Ruber, and Captain Hook.

"Hand over the whelp, Stoick." Drago extended his bullhook. Above him Maleficent growled. "Or your dragons, are mine."

Stoick grasped Arthur's shoulder. He answered Drago with a side-step, standing before the king. "The whelp's name is King Arthur."

Arthur straightened. _He_ answered with a second side-step, standing _aside_ the Viking chief. Excalibur poised, he warned the villains.

"Get out."

The villains hissed. Ruber advanced, but Captain Hook stayed him with a dramatic sigh.

"Dear Chosen One. Tis a pity that Pitch requested you alive. Maleficent – " Captain Hook waved. "Leave the boy. Kill the Viking."

Maleficent pierced Stoick with an acid green flame. Arthur leapt, but Stoick was dead before he could shield the blow.

However, as fire gnawed through Stoick's armor and into his heart, Arthur hurled Excalibur into Maleficent's.

Maleficent shrieked, Excalibur embedded in her chest. Fire spiraled from her jaws as she slowly died - death only delayed by bits of black magic.

But as her magic waned, Maleficent seized Arthur. She screamed skyward, intent on commemorating the end her wicked life with the cruelest act of all: delivering King Arthur to Pitch Black.

But Maleficent did not see North's reindeer sleigh streaking under the moon.

* * *

 **...**

* * *

"Caliburn! CALIBURN! Caliburn I see it – there!" Schmendrick swung Kayley around. In his excitement they slammed against the sleigh.

"There!" Schmendrick repeated. Blue magic sprinkled from his fingertip. "Caliburn is there – the sword is sticking from that dragon!"

Kayley peered through the firelight. A white glint caught the corner of her eye, drawing Kayley to a beautiful sword stuck inside a dying dragon. The dragon flew higher, exposing a prisoner within her claws.

Kayley squinted – the prisoner was unidentifiable through the smoke. But his hair _– was it white? Whitish? Did it just appear blonde against the firelight?_

"Schmendrick!" Kayley thumped the magician's robes. "Didn't you say The King's hair was white?"

"Yes! Lots of it, very thick! White!"

"Then look!" Kayley stabbed. "That man in the dragon's claws! His hair – is it white?"

Schmendrick assessed, probing his triangular nose.

"White enough!" he decided, "It's white enough! Kayley! KAYLEY! That man! That man trapped by the dragon with Caliburn through her heart! That man must be – "

"The King!" Kayley cheered, sprinting to North. "The Once and Future King! Father Christmas! Santa! NORTH!"

Kayley grappled the reins. "Turn around! Fly up! We have to save him! We have to save Caliburn! We have to save the Once and Future King!"

"Is no good!" North shouted, gruffly brushing Kayley aside. He whipped, urging his reindeer faster. "We have to find Pitch! And the children! Yippa the children!"

"For once you're right!" Bunny hollered, allegiances _drastically_ changed. These people were no longer Fantasians – they were children he _had_ to save. "Tooth! You and I will get the kids! Sandy, North – you look for Pitch!"

North affirmed. Sandman saluted, golden whips snaking across his palms.

Tooth crouched over the edge. "Bunny, you take the left? I'll take the right?"

Bunny nodded. "I'll open my tunnels! We'll put the kids underground! After that, I'll take them to the Warren! Got it?"

Tooth sailed from the sleigh. "Got it! Okay girls – go!"

The guardians split, North and Sandman sprinting across the sky as Tooth and Bunny thundered across the land.

Adrenaline hammered through Bunny. He catapulted through the massacre, propelled by muscular springs in his feet. Hardly did Bunny touch ground – save to stomp twice on the cobblestone, wait for a magical rabbit hole to appear, and stuff the child inside.

They worked faster than dynamite. Tooth flew entire _flocks_ of children into the rabbit holes. That is, children _and_ their parents.

At first Bunny was vexed – they were supposed to concentrate on saving children! But Tooth argued, (1) two dwarves had _already_ entered Bunny's tunnels, (2) the dwarves had _already_ snuck adults underground, (3) was Bunny _really_ that cold hearted?

"Fine!" Bunny shoved two children underground. He stomped, closing the hole. A pink flower blossomed in its place. "But if those Fantasians crush _any_ of my Easter eggs – "

"Then North will put you on the Nice List!" Tooth retorted, passing an infant to her mother. "Come on Bunny – move!"

"Ohhhh." Bunny darted athletically between dragons. "That's what rabbits do best love! We-"

An explosion forced Bunny to duck. He cartwheeled tail over ears as dragons scrounged the rabbit holes , digging for Fantasians.

As the dragons dropped, the sky cleared for all but one. Bunny frowned, tracking Maleficent as she swirled against the moon -

\- and towards a black shadow.

"Oh crikey." Bunny turned, grabbing more children than he could carry. "Pitch."

* * *

 **...**

* * *

"DAD!" Hiccup screamed as Wendy yelled for Arthur. Together they ran, oblivious to the other as Maleficent disappeared behind acid green smoke. The smoke engulfed them, clouding Stoick's body and filling their mouths with a caustic, sour taste.

"KING ARTHUR!" Drago bellowed. "KING ARTHUR KILLED OUR CHIEF!"

Wendy was staggered. _Arthur? Kill?_ Unable to disprove the accusation, Wendy could only _insist_ to herself that Arthur was innocent.

 _But..._ Wendy suddenly realized. _Even if he wasn't, she'd seen enough Fantasians die to vindicate Arthur's actions._

War cries erupted. Drago condemned Arthur and ordered that the Fantasian king be punished for slaying Stoick with his magical blade.

The confusion escalated to madness. Stoick's death _infuriated_ the Vikings. Dragons aside, they attacked Fantasia with unbridled violence. Captain Hook and Ruber fueled the rage by stringing Stoick's body for all to see.

"You!" Hiccup jumped Wendy. Sobbing, he clawed her throat. "You killers! You KILLERS! How could you kill him, WHY are you doing this us? My dad is dead he's–"

Toothless slammed into Hiccup, trampling Wendy but setting her free. Hiccup chased Wendy for a single stride before Toothless chomped his prosthetic leg.

Hiccup collapsed, but did not rise. He didn't even attempt. Curling into a ball, Hiccup cried. He sobbed into Toothless, begging the dragon to bring his father back.

* * *

 **...**

* * *

Wendy screamed for Shadow. The call targeted her position, but was a necessary risk. Someone had to save Arthur before Maleficent fell from the sky. Neither Peter nor Jack were available ( _were WHERE they?!_ ), so Wendy had two options: One, steal a Viking dragon. Two, use Shadow. Wendy chose the latter – a shadow she could control. A dragon – even the friendly night fury – she could not.

"Shadow!" Wendy called, skimming over mysterious pink flowers. "Shadow where are y – "

Wendy rounded a corner, sinking into Captain Hook, Gaston, Lana, Cordelia, and Kay. She backpedaled, quickly orienting herself but colliding with Ruber who stuffed a bag over her head.

Ruber twisted the bag and lifted, hanging Wendy by a fashioned noose. The villains cheered as she groped blindly for their shadows. Lana pulled, spinning Wendy and tightening the bag around her throat.

Wendy panicked – she couldn't breath! The fabric squeezed her neck, pinched her skin, constricted her airways –

"OH you are SUCH a FREAKING DAMSEL!"

There was an almighty _wrench_. Wendy's skull cracked as the bag snapped off, and Peter tore her away.

The ride was bumpy but _fast_. Peter sliced over a dragon, dismounting it's rider as he passed. The Viking hurled a mace, but Peter outflew it. Darting sideways, he skid behind the remnants of _Tony's Restaurant_. The restaurant was leveled. Embers crackled beneath burned pasta and soot.

"Peter!" Wendy cried. "Peter Arthur is –"

Wendy stopped, suddenly noticing Peter's shirt. It was bloody. "Your _back_! Peter your – "

"It's like a _thing_ with you!" Peter snarled, shrugging her away. Angrily he scanned the sky. "A rescue every second! Way to go Wishing Star, pick a _girl_ to be a guardian. Damsel in distress! Little Bo Peep lost her sheep! Geeze! Next time make sure the dress comes with an AK47 rifle!"

Wendy was beside herself. "Insulting? Catty? In the middle of a _war_? You are _unbelievable_!"

"Thank you _very_ much!"

"Do _not_ take it as a compliment!"

"I think you know me better than _that_!"

"Stop being childish!"

"Stop being adult-ISH!"

"Maleficent has Arthur!" Wendy jabbed the sky. "So if you're so _wonderful_ go save him! I will find Shadow to help you – "

"Don't you mean Jim?" Peter sneered.

Wendy exploded.

"Stop it! This is not about us! Or do I have to remind you that you let that conversation slide in and out of your overgrown ears! You are so childish! You are so selfish! You are so, so, SO STUBBORN! Can't you just try and understand that Jim and I are only frie -"

Wendy stopped. "Wait – wait – where _is_ Jim?"

"AHHHRRRR!" Peter seized Wendy's shoulders. He gave a single, brutal shake before chasing Arthur. "Why do I – "

Wendy didn't hear the rest. She was too busy defying Peter's first comment.

"I am NOT a DAMSEL! Ohhhh!"

Wendy reentered the burning streets. Furiously, she scraped a stream of tears. " _Why_ do I _love_ him? Shadow! Shadow where are you? Shadow come here now! Shadow!"

"Looking for this?"

Someone spoke directly inside her head. Wendy stumbled, hands on her temples. The voice was thin and sharp – like a needle. Every syllable hurt.

"Oooohhhh..." the voice whimpered mockingly. "Do we have an ouchy? A boo-boo? Awwwww. Too bad mommy can't kiss it all better, hm?"

Flash. A black and white memory blurred Wendy's mind – _Mary G. Darling. Her mother's grave_. Wendy flinched. The memory was painful – it felt like fingers poking her brain.

Idly, the voice continued. "Well...maybe daddy can help..."

Flash. A new memory – _George Darling -her father – pulling her dress – yanking her hair – alcohol breath – hitting her hard – hard enough to make her mouth bleed_.

"Whoops!" The voice yipped. "No not daddy! Let's try little brother one..."

Flash. _John – a childhood fight._

"Nope." sang the voice, becoming malicious. "Little brother two?"

Flash. _Michael – five years old – ropes around his little neck – crying on a pirate ship._ Flash. _Michael – eleven years old – Wendy please don't go!_

Wendy recoiled, forehead grinding into her knuckles. Desperately she tried to make the memories stop.

The voice laughed.

"No one's there, no one cares! Ring around the rosie we all fall dead! Well then shadow worker... I think there's only one more person to ask. What about..."

She _felt_ the voice grin.

"Big brother?"

Black sand slithered from the wrecked households, twisting into a glittering vortex. Wendy stared as Pitch Black emerged from the center, _hundreds_ of nightmares snarling in his wake.

"You're..." Wendy didn't know why, but _somehow_ she knew. "The Boogie Man."

Pitch gleamed.

"Alias..." he said, snapping two fingers. Several nightmares swept aside, uncovering Jim. "Pitch Black."

"Jim!" Wendy ran. The nightmares sprung, blocking her path as she yelled.

Jim jerked, as if waking from a dream. Blinking wildly, he focused, found Wendy, threw a warning hand. "Wen don't— "

But Pitch snapped again. He watched Wendy's reaction as Peter's shadow leapt from the nightmares and coiled around Jim.

"I repeat. Are you looking for this?" Pitch stroked Peter's shadow. "Your little boy's lost soul?"


	94. Ch 94: I See Fire, Blood in the Breeze

**Chapter 94: I See Fire, Blood in the Breeze.**

Peter charged through North's reindeer. Sleigh bells jingled as he skimmed the sleigh en route for Maleficent, Arthur, and Excalibur. Maleficent was contorting, fighting to keep her dragon form, and Arthur was fighting tenfold to escape. Both bodies were illuminated by the moon, but as Peter flew the moonlight dimmed beneath a black... _something_. The gathering darkness was sheer and dusky; like a gigantic shadow.

Instinctively Peter touched his neck, feeling for Wendy's thimble.

It wasn't there. With a sickening jolt, Peter remembered. He'd removed the thimble to spite Wendy, to release her from his memory.

"Thanks Wendy. Thanks a lot." Peter kneaded the dread inside his stomach. Then, sardonically he added. "Who's the damsel now?"

Peter kicked, powering through mesmerized dragons. Bumping into Jack Frost and Elsa along the way, he gestured towards King Arthur. Jack nodded, bolstering Elsa and twirling his staff. Although she couldn't see Jack, Elsa agreed to help, desperate to redeem her sins. Peter lead, and the trio flew to King Arthur's rescue.

But the shadows grew. As they neared the blackness, Peter differentiated the single mass as a sea of skeletal horses. The horses were frightening. They were smoky but skeletal, like carcasses glued together with ash and bone.

They were... horses...mares... _night_ mares.

Peter suddenly felt vulnerable. His innards felt hollow. His ears pricked like antenna, listening as the nightmares sniffed his empty soul.

Again, Peter probed his neck, touching the spot Wendy's thimble use to sit. Thinking of her, and their lost love, he raced after King Arthur.

"SCHMENDRICK!" Kayley reached helplessly after Peter. She panicked as Pitch's nightmares surrounded Maleficent, preparing to swallow The King. "Schmendrick! Do something! Save The King! Save Caliburn! Use your magic!"

"Magic? But I —" Schmendrick floundered as Sandman suddenly leapt from the sleigh. Dodging the dreamsand, Schmendrick clumsily regained his footing.

"But I can't use magic! Remember the last time I tried? Ladies Odette and Amalthea were transfigured, and Master Emrys disappeared! Kayley I am the world's worst magici –"

"But you have to try!" Kayley shouted, so passionately North glanced back. "You have to do something!"

"I would if I could!" Schmendrick cried. "If I could, I'd send The King and Caliburn far away, somewhere no human could find him! But that would take a _real_ magician with _real_ magic! And I can't pretend anymore."

"But you _have_ magic!" Kayley wrung Schmendrick's robes, trying to stir his confidence. "Schmendrick the magic is inside you! Maybe you can't see it, but it's there, I know it's there! You have all the power you need, if you dare to look for it!"

An odd expression pulled Schmendrick's face, as if he were simultaneously appalled and touched by Kayley's praise. For the first time in his life Schmendrick didn't feel like the world's worst magician. He felt like a hero.

But he still was dubious. And he remained dubious until Maleficent's shadow curled over Kayley, cracking the indestructible light in her eyes.

"Schmendrick please – _Don't_ let my father die in vain."

Schmendrick stiffened his upper lip. Then he rolled both sleeves and straightened his conical hat.

" _Magic_... _do as you will_." Schmendrick chanted, squeezing Kayley's hand. Blue magic twinkled between them as Schmendrick delivered his _own_ incantation, and _not_ Master Emrys' ' _Higitus figitus'_ charm.

" _Magic do as you will_!" Schmendrick repeated, voice growing as magic swelled from his palms. " _Magic do as you will! MAGIC! DO AS YOU WILL_!"

Schmendrick threw his fist at Maleficent. Blue magic forced open his fingers, stretched from his skin and exploded.

The explosion split the sky. At first Kayley felt a single vibration, like a base drum inside her skull.

Then the magic _launched_ Schmendrick from the sleigh; and since she was holding his hand, Kayley followed.

They shot upwards. Kayley and Schmendrick clung to each other as Peter, Jack, and Elsa tumbled backwards into North's sleigh. It was an electrifying experience. Kayley was frightened but thrilled. The magic lifted them to terrifying heights, crackling like blue popcorn. Kayley opened her mouth to scream, but suddenly stopped. She smiled – Schmendrick's magic tasted buttery. Like popcorn.

Then the magic hit Maleficent. Blue sparkles plastered the dragon, condensed upon the king – and exploded a second time. But this time, the explosion was not friendly. This time, the explosion propelled all of them out of Fantasia and into the Otherland.

Kayley and Schmendrick were separated from Caliburn. And The King.

The last thing Kayley _remembered_ was falling aside Schmendrick.

The last thing she _saw_ was The King, freed from the dragon but thrown from his magical sword as he fell deep into the Otherland.

* * *

 **... ... ...**

* * *

"Speechless? Nothing to say?" Pitch rubbed his hands, eager to smear victory in Wendy's face. "Well shadow worker, I _promise_ you _will_ be screaming. Once you hear what I've in store for you and your – "

Blue magic suddenly surged across the sky, ending Pitch's dialogue. The explosion was catastrophic – like a supernova.

Pitch turned, only mildly distracted as the blue magic hit Maleficent. Then he frowned. The magic had shrunk, gathering to a pin prick on King Arthur's nose. And when Arthur exhaled, the magical speck detonated, flinging he, Maleficent, Excalibur into the Otherland – lost from sight.

"Well. That's irritating." Pitch returned to Wendy. "I was going to gloat. But now I'll just have to cut to the chase. Or rather..."

Pitch snapped, releasing the nightmares. "The capture."

The nightmares pounced, quickly overtaking Jim and feeding on his memories. Jim's mind was already fragile (made vulnerable by Pitch) and as the nightmares dug deeper, Jim's terror escalated.

It was a massacre. Like fear itself the nightmares attacked the most defenseless victim, leaving Wendy for the second course.

Wendy tried to reach Jim. She ran into the nightmares, needle extracted and magical thread trailing from her hand. It hurt. Oh, how it _hurt_. The nightmares acted similarly to shadows but their bite was organic, like cold teeth on the brain. Wendy fought for every step.

Pitch was _incredibly_ entertained.

"You know it's pathetic," he said, summoning Peter's shadow and lazily directing it at Wendy. "I was actually a little apprehensive to meet you."

Peter's shadow flapped over Wendy. Pitch continued as she unsuccessfully parried, unable to draw the shadow from Pitch's control.

"Oh yes. The infamous Miss Darling..." Pitch waved jazz hands. "Fantasia's glorious little shadow worker! Underworld guardian! Don't underestimate her, she's petite but she packs a punch! Oh yes I was nervous. You see, your predecessor, Yen Sid, was an awful bully. But you..."

Pitch clapped. Peter's shadow gorged into Wendy.

"Well, you're just adorable." Pitch said, encircling Wendy as the shadow combed her memories. Indulgently he inhaled, filling himself with her fear. "But I imagine you get that all the time. Don't you...pretty girl?"

Pitch snatched a memory as the shadow scooped it free. The image paused, resting on the moment Peter reached under Wendy's slip; to undress her, to take her, to make love.

"A night of passion. My, my, my. Look how afraid you were."

Pitch slackened his hold on the memory, just enough so Wendy could hear. Ensuring his nightmares had confined Jim, Pitch knelt. "Do you know the difference between shadows and nightmares, Wendy?"

Wendy jerked, trying to escape. Her needle skimmed harmlessly over the cobblestone.

"I'll take that as a no." Pitch leered. "My, for a shadow worker you are _astoundingly_ naive. Let me educate you: Shadows _find_ painful memories. But nightmares _change_ them."

Pitch squeezed. "For example...I think this will be a fun memory to manipulate. Let's see...how can we turn your memory into a nightmare?"

Pitch perverted her memory. Wendy recoiled as the scene replayed then _changed_.

 _Peter clamped her neck – held her still. His hands found her breast – his mouth and teeth followed, just as before._ But then the memory distorted. Wendy knew it was just a dream, but her senses exploded as if it were real. She felt everything.

 _Peter stretched the slip over her head. Wendy saw pink, she felt the satin. She breathed into the fabric as Peter rolled, forcing her onto the bed. The slip disappeared and he was on top, gripping, licking, and biting, sprinkling sensations across her chest._

 _Suddenly Wendy was scared, more scared that she had ever been. She wasn't ready! She wasn't ready! Terrified she covered herself. Peter wrenched her hands apart. Wendy cried, begging him to stop. Peter laughed._ _He called her names. He sang little songs._ _He was everywhere, uncontrolled, violent, touching her, sticking himself into her –_

Crack! The nightmare erupted into gold dust. Warmth spread through Wendy as Sandman suddenly bobbed under her arm and Peter slammed into Pitch.

"That," Peter growled, unsheathing his dagger. "Is private."

Pitch grinned. "And you," he countered, beckoning Peter's shadow. "Haven't a soul."

It happened too fast for Wendy to stop.

"No!" Wendy stumbled over Sandman, desperately calling Peter's shadow. "Shadow don't! Shadow! SHADOW! Peter look out –!"

She was too late. The shadow burrowed inside Peter, reuniting with his soul. But this time, Pitch _controlled_ the shadow. Without Wendy's thimble to protect him, Peter was possessed.

"Inner demons – so easy. Just like puppets." Pitch demonstrated, miming motions for Peter to mimic. Advancing on Wendy and Sandman, Pitch elevated as a nightmare took shape beneath him. "Really shadow worker, you should give possession a whirl. Shouldn't she...Sandy?"

"Peter— " Wendy struggled as Sandman held her back. Protectively, Sandman stood before Wendy as the nightmares converged. Golden whips rolled from his sleeves as Pitch approached with Peter, Jim dragging lifelessly behind.

Pitch leaned forward on his nightmare. He smiled at Wendy, raised pretend claws at Sandman –

"Boo."

The nightmares attacked.

Sandman slashed his golden whips, dissolving nightmares to dust. Wendy dodged Peter en route for Jim, stabbing her needle at anything that moved. Blinded with unhappy thoughts, she tackled Jim and unwound the nightmares inside him. As Jim's memories of Sinbad hissed away, North's sleigh jangled overhead.

Sandman spotted the sleigh. Disintegrating the nightmares surrounding Wendy and Jim, he pulled them into the air. A dreamsand cloud collected underneath as Sandman spiraled upwards, drawing the nightmares towards North's sleigh.

The guardians leapt to Sandman's aid. Wendy and Jim stared as Tooth, Bunny, and North fought the nightmares – North with his sabres, Bunny with his boomerang, and Tooth with her fists. Jack joined the fight after securing Elsa on the sleigh. Jumping into the wind, he smashed nightmares with his staff.

Their efforts were valiant, but insignificant. Dragons flocked North's sleigh as Drago and Ruber observed the battle from below. The sleigh caught fire, and Elsa was abducted afore Jack froze her dragon kidnapper. Spraying frost across the fire, Jack disappeared with Elsa as the dragons chased them towards the North Pole.

Behind, Sandman was overwhelmed. Dragons distracted the guardians as Pitch's nightmares swarmed the dreamsand. Black nightmare-sand swirled like a hurricane, steadily condensing into the yellow cloud. Relentlessly, the nightmares pursued Sandman, driving the battle over the ocean.

From above, Pitch watched calmly as Sandman cracked his whips. His blows hardly made a spark. As Peter crouched obediently beside him, Pitch smiled as Wendy battered nightmares with her little needle, trying to protect Jim.

Nightmare-sand gathered between Pitch's hands. It rained through his fingers.

Time to win.

"Two to rebuild the Black Cauldron..." Pitch recited, eyes flickering between Wendy and Elsa's icy trail. "One a guardian. One not."

He looked down to Jim. "One guardian to fix the Wishing Star. And the last..."

Pitch stretched his arms, one straightening forward and one bending back. The nightmare-sand sharpened into a black arrowhead.

"And the last guardian..." Pitch whispered, aiming at Sandman. "To die."

Pitch released. The arrow burst through the air and thud into Sandman's back, exploding on impact.

Sandman straightened, wide-eyed with shock. Pitch laughed as Sandman gently touched the black sand spreading across his golden chest.

"Don't fight the fear little man!" Pitch rejoiced, sending Peter to retrieve Wendy and Jim. He smirked as Wendy grasped Sandman's shoulders, and Jim tried to help. North, Tooth, and Bunny were speeding through the nightmares, but gradually slowing as the sleigh burned.

"I'd say sweet dreams..." Pitch crooned as Sandman crumpled to his knees. "...but there aren't any left. You and all of the guardians, are – "

Suddenly Sandman locked Pitch's gaze. Almost peacefully he smiled. Then, as he was consumed by nightmares, Sandman cast Wendy and Jim from the cloud.

Wendy and Jim dropped. Above, the golden dreamsand throbbed, flickered like a dying star –

-and Sandman was gone.

"Now I lay me down to sleep! I pray the Lord my soul to keep!" Pitch swept his hands, hurling all his forces after Wendy, Jim, and the guardians.

Peter tore downwards with the nightmares, as dragons flew up, trapping the guardians in between. Wendy and Jim fell as North dove after them, his sleigh careening out of control. Tooth darted past the reindeer. She reached for Wendy and Jim, flying so fast she was a rainbow streak.

"If I should die before I wake!" Pitch curled his fists, impatiently awaiting the capture. The dragons and nightmares were converging. Tooth and Peter were neck and neck. Wendy and Jim were engulfed by dragon fire. Nightmare-sand covered North's sleigh. "I pray the Lord my soul to – "

Suddenly the ocean opened. Ariel flashed from the depths, her trident glowing like the sun. Pitch snarled as she twisted titanic waves around the guardians. And just she lifted ocean, the waves collapsed, sucking Wendy, Jim, and the Otherland guardians into the deep.

Electricity crackled from the water as dragons, nightmares, and Peter frisked the surface. Pitch cursed those that had escaped - the guardians underwater, and King Arthur in the Otherland. The villains celebrated. Fantasians sobbed beneath the earth.

But other than that, all was quiet.

The battle had ended.

And all that remained of Fantasia, was the blood in the breeze.

* * *

 **sultal's note: chapter title inspired by "I See Fire" by Ed Sheeran (The Hobbit Soundtrack)**


	95. Ch 95: What Are You Doing in My Swamp!

**Chapter 95: What Are You Doing in My Swamp?!**

Crysta was a Ferngullian. She lived in Ferngully. Ferngully was beautiful jungle that bordered a stinky swamp. The swamp was "owned" by stinkier ogre.

Ironically, Ferngully and Ogre Swamp were sandwich between the northern and southern regions of the Otherland, essentially separating the upper kingdom (including Avalon), from the Vikings in Dragon Country. It was a blessing (no one _really_ complained), but rotten for intranational communications.

Little else was known of Ferngully or Ogre Swamp. Both landmarks were very mysterious and therefore dangerous.

However, those that explored Ferngully (and survived Ogre Swamp) always felt like they were "being watched." Unwise explorers ignored the feeling; they were usually found dead, their bones decaying in the swamp.

However, the wise explorers took their suspicions to heart; they usually fled, and told their grandchildren about the eerie laughter that followed them out of the jungle. When their grandchildren begged for more, these explorers told stories about the Ferngullians – beautiful, tall, creatures with pale eyes, wild hair, pointed ears, and translucent wings.

 _"Ferngullians are not fairies,"_ these explores would explain. _"And they are not pixies or elves. Ferngullians are tree spirits. They protect the jungle from intruders. Ferngullians...are sprites."_

It was a close approximation (that Ferngullians were sprites). The Ferngullians would argue (they _loved_ to argue), that Ferngullians are Ferngullians, a separate species unto themselves.

They were NOT pixies. No freaking way. Pixies were the smaller, slower, backstabbing inferior cousins of the ferngullians. And they were NOT elves. Elves lived in the North Pole. Elves made toys (at least, that was the rumor).

Tree spirits? Sure, why not. After all, Ferngullians helped the jungle grow. They restored plants, guided the animals, and balanced fauna and flora in the delicate web of life.

But a sprite? Yes. Sort of. A 'sprite' was a special _type_ of Ferngullian – a Ferngullian with the power not only to heal nature, but to _create_ it. To create _life_.

 _The S_ prite (yes, singular and capitalized), was the Ferngullian queen. Her name was Magi. Magi was very old, very wise, very graceful...

...and very demanding.

Crysta was Magi's ward. Magi was teaching Crysta how harmonize with nature, build life from death...

...and how to be the next Sprite.

Did Crysta enjoy it?

No. Not exactly.

Crysta was restless, which was typical for Ferngullians her age. Younger Ferngullians had a tendency towards impatience and instant gratification; Crysta was no exception.

Matters were complicated by her best friend, Pips, whose personality was flamboyant as his red hair. For every year of their friendship, Crysta and Pips ventured from the safety of Ferngully. They shared adventures, near death experiences, and had more fun than Magi approved of. Ferngullians were resentful of the outside world, especially those that belittled the jungle. Crysta and Pips pushed dangerously on that boundary.

Crysta sighed. Mist swirled under her breath, circling in the starlight. She and Pips were scheduled for another misadveture tonight – invading Ogre Swamp. Magi would undoubtedly hear about it from some tattletale flower, and reprimand her in the morning.

Guiltily, Crysta ruffled her jet black hair. She drew a leg to her chest. Again she sighed.

"Moping sure don't become you, my one bodacious babe."

Crysta's smile hit the stars. Crossing her arms imperiously, she nodded at Pip's signature colored kilt.

"Yellow _still_ doesn't become you, Pips Pan."

Pips laughed. Nimbly descending, he blew an extra-large raspberry through his pan flute. Crysta kicked playfully as his spittle rained through the pipes.

"Ew! Pips!"

"Yellow looks great on me!" Pips spanked his behind. "Plus," he winked a lime-green eye. "I know you like it."

"Oh who wouldn't?" Crysta scrunched her nose. "Banana yellow. Very masculine."

"Does wonders for the curves." Pips countered.

"Well that explains why you're wearing a skirt."

"Better than those tights Corny use to wear! Remember?" Reminiscently Pips laughed. "Geeze those bad boys were something! But still, they were yellow! Sunshine yellow! Yellow attracts the ladies. That's how I do it! And that's how Corny twitterpated Thumbali...well...you know."

Pips settled aside Crysta, suddenly subdued at mention of his brother. Sympathetically, Crysta did not comment. Together, they swung their bare feet, simply sharing the silence and matching each other's rhythm.

"You miss him?" Crysta finally asked.

"Who, Corny? Naw."

Pips scratched behind an ear with his flute. "Dude was flighty – chilling with humans, getting himself killed. Idiot. Plus, I got Corny's room when he choked. Great view of the orchid garden – what else could I ask for? Nope don't miss big bro-ski at all."

"But," Pips added, nudging Crysta. "I could stand a little more of you. You know, you're spending more time with Magi than you do with me."

"You?" Crysta's wings glimmered pink. Embarrassed, she retracted them against her spine. "Well what can I learn from you? Also..." she over-exaggerated a coquettish smirk. "Magi thinks you're a bad influence."

"Oh yeah?" Pips flicked his long hair. Crysta was a little envious – Pip's had one gorgeous mane. " _The_ _Mag_ don't dig me, huh?"

"She says I should stop hanging around with bug-brain layabouts. That means you."

"I'm flattered!"

"Magi _also_ says," Crysta retorted. "I should get serious."

"Bout time." Pips leered. He flashed a wolfish grin. "But there's something Magi _ain't_ gonna teach you."

"Oh really?"

"Oh yeah."

"And what's that?"

Seizing her ankle, Pips flipped Crysta over. "How to beat me! Come on!"

Pips sprinted up a tree and into the air. Wings churning muscularly, he beckoned. "Last one to Ogre Swamp is a dung beetle!"

They raced, and the outcome was predictable. Crysta was competitive and Pips was cocky. Pips was bred of a fast flying family, and he loved to watch Crysta squirm.

Flying backwards, Pips zigzagged through trees, waved at Crysta, and doodled merrily on his flute. If Crysta blinked Pips would disappear, only to reappear behind her with an evil poke. She'd scowl. He'd chuckle. And the race would resume.

"Up the voltage, speedster!" Pips called as the jungle emptied into Ogre Swamp. Around them, the vista was transforming. Trees were thinning into shrubs; the forest floor had liquefied into sludge; and the flowery aroma dwindled to vomit and rot.

Gross. Telltale sign. The smell.

They had reached Ogre Swamp.

Noticing the change, Pips flew closer to Crysta. But as he slowed Crysta charged, taking the lead. Ignoring Pip's warning she blazed ahead, wings glowing against the stagnant waters. Although a finish line hadn't been predetermined, triumph hammered through Crysta as she sailed faster, and faster, and faster, and _faster_ –!

"Crysta!" Pips yelled as a blue magic suddenly erupted overhead. He flew frantically as the magic hurtled violently into the swamp. "Crysta look out!"

Crysta reeled as the blue magic plunged into her path. She tumbled into Pips. Both slapped into the bog. Pips scrambled backwards, dragging Crysta through the mud as the blue magic began to dissolve.

"Pips..." Crysta breathed, eyes filled with the disintegrating magic. "Pips...there's someone...there."

Pips did not answer. Instead he squeezed, awestruck.

The ferngullians gaped as a dark shape materialized within the magic. Limbs flailed around a thrashing body, taking shape into a boy.

A human boy.

 _Crack, snap, pop!_ The blue magic vanished.

The boy sunk into the swamp.

* * *

 **.. ... .. .. ... ... . ... ... ... ... .. ... ... ... ..**

* * *

"Crysta don't! Stay away from him!"

"Pips Pan, stop it! Let go! He's hurt!"

"He could be faking. Like a possum. Them things are tricky. Just like humans."

"But he's young! Look he's a boy! We can't just leave him here."

"Yeah. That's one theory."

Arthur felt a prod. He moaned painfully as the male speaker (apparently _Pips_ ) grasped his bangs. Pips tugged, dislodging Arthur's head from the mud. Arthur heard a _sluuuuuuuck_ as the mud sucked from his ears.

"Yeah..."

Pips released.

 _Splat._ Arthur splashed back into the mud. Slime eeked into his ears as Pips grunted.

"Kinda small ain't he? Def not a Viking. I say we leave him to the ogre."

" _Pips_!"

The female (Pips had called her Crysta), hefted Arthur upright. As they argued, Arthur tried to orient. It was impossible. When he hit, the swamp had body slammed him back. Every injury stung. A hornet's nest burned inside his head. His bones felt soft. Just _breathing_ was exhausting.

And an _unbearable_ coldness gnawed his heart.

Arthur flopped a hand, trying to touch his chest. Deliriously, he groped for the invisible icicles stuck inside his rib cage. Several unsuccessful attempts were made before Crysta and Pips ended their bickering and hauled Arthur to dry land.

Well, _drier_ land.

"What's he doing?" Pips propped Arthur against a BEWARE OGRES sign. He glowered as Crysta lowered Arthur's hands. "Looks like he's grabbing for something. Probably a knife. Or a gun. Or a bomb. Betcha he stashed one under his shirt. Just waiting for us to -"

"No, he's..." Crysta cocked her head curiously as Arthur clawed his chest. "I think... he's..."

Crysta leaned. Gingerly sliding her fingers beneath Arthur's, she pressed.

Her eyes popped. Instinctively, she jerked away.

"Ice!" Crysta gasped, answering Pip's unasked question. Enthralled, she returned to Arthur's chest. "Pips his heart is icy! This human's heart is full of ice!"

"Well then don't _touch_ him!" Pips grappled but Crysta elbowed him away. Vexed, Pips flapped his wings. "Crysta just let him freeze or whatever! It's a hex! You could catch it! Come on – you can turn into a snowflake on your own time! We've got to split before the ogre – "

"We should take him to Magi!" Crysta insisted, lifting Arthur's tunic. Unabashed, she caressed his skin. It was cold. Arthur shivered as she swiped across his heart. "Magi will know what to do! She'll be able to heal this hex – "

"Crysta he is a human!" Pips shouted through cupped hands, making sure to enunciate every word. "We do not help humans! Remember what they did to Cornelius? What _she_ did?"

"That wasn't Thumbelina's fault!" Crysta snapped, bolstering Arthur against her shoulder. She rose, using the BEWARE OGRES sign for support. "And even if it was, it wasn't this human's fault either. You can't blame all humans just because one – "

"Oh yes I can!"

"Oh no you can't!"

"Why not?"

"It's not right!"

" _Not_ _right_?" Pips howled. "Crysta I think _Magi_ is the one dishing out the bad influences! Not me! You _can't_ save this human!"

"Why?"

"You don't even know his name!"

"His _name_?" Crysta almost laughed. "Why does that even matter?"

"I don't know!" Pips snarled, ears bright red. "Seemed the best argument!"

"Ridiculous argument!"

"Nu- uh!"

"Yuh-huh!"

" _Nuh-uhhhhhhhhhh_!"

"Yuh – oh fine!" Aggravated, Crysta rounded on Arthur. "Hey! Human! What is your name?"

Arthur panted, too weak even for speech. The icy ache was spreading from his heart and into his head. Finally, wilting in Crysta's arms, he murmured. "I'm...Arthur. I need...to get... to Fantasia...I'm.. their king...King Arthur."

Neither Crysta nor Pips were prepared for his response.

They were less prepared for the green ogre that suddenly appeared.

"WHAT – " the ogre bellowed, his gumby ears wiggling. "ARE YOU DOING IN MY SWAMP?!"

Crysta looked at Pips. Pips pointed at Arthur.

"Ask this dude. He's a king."


	96. Chapter 96: Garrett and Frumpy Pig Skin

**Chapter 96: Garrett and Frumpy Pig Skin**

Kayley woke up sore and miserable.

Schmendrick woke up sore and _overjoyed_!

"Ha. HA! I…I did it!" Schmendrick rotated his hands. He pressed them to his nose. The "after-magic-scent" was intoxicating. "I did it! I DID IT! I am a – I summoned the – the magic came to – "

Euphorically, Schmendrick spread his arms. "Oh whoa the powers of WHOA! Master Emrys wherever you are! I DID IT! I DID IT! _I – DID – IT_!"

"What…" Kayley moaned, slowly perceiving their surroundings. There wasn't much to perceive: the land was parched, dehydrated, and stripped to the bone.

And…it was cluttered with bones. _Dragon_ bones.

"What have you done?" Kayley whispered, gawking at the gigantic ribcage arched over them. She stepped back, crunching brittle dragon scales. "Schmendrick. We're in _Dragon Country_! What have you done? _What – have – you – done_?!"

"What have I done?" Schmendrick danced, bones snapping under his heels. "What do you mean what have I done? I've only saved us, Caliburn, and The King by magic, that's all _I've done_! By magic! _Magic_! By my own true MAGIC!"

Schmendrick was breathless. He was hysteric.

Kayley was not.

"But where is The King?" Kayley demanded, dust fluffing as she spun. "Schmendrick he's not here! Neither is Caliburn! Where are they? Schmendrick _where are they_?"

"Gone!" Schmendrick triumphantly proclaimed. "They've gone _exactly_ where I bade the magic to take them! Remember? Remember what I said? I said that only a true magician could send Caliburn and The King _far away where no human could find them_!"

"So…since you and I are human…" Kayley covered her mouth. "Then…that means…oh no."

"It means the magic worked!" Schmendrick beamed. "It means The King is amongst non-humans! It means The King is far from Ruber, and safe from harm! It means _my magic_ is a force to behold! It means I am not the world's worst magician! That's right Schmendrick – no more card tricks for you!"

Theatrically, Schmendrick recounted his incantation. " _Magic do as you will! Magic do as you will_! AHHHHHHHH – YES!"

"No!" Furiously Kayley clenched her hair. "Schmendrick we were supposed to save The King! We were supposed to protect Caliburn! HOW are we going to fulfill this quest if we are _separated_?!"

"A fair question!" Schmendrick fanned his robes. "DOUBTLESS you are wondering how I plan to locate The King and reunite him with his magical sword!"

"Yes! "exclaimed Kayley. "The thought _did_ cross my mind!"

"Well wonder not!" Schmendrick countered, giddy with glee. "The magic will come when I need it! And someday, when I CALL!"

"Then call it now!" Kayley yelled. She'd had _enough_ of his pomposity. "Tell the magic to find Caliburn and The King! Tell the magic – "

"I can't _tell_ the magic!" Schmendrick patronized (nonetheless joyously). "Total mastery is the second stage of wizardry and I have _just_ breached the first! Kayley, it was the _magic_ that chose the destinations, not I! I am a petitioner – I am a supplicant – !"

Kayley punched as Schmendrick twirled. She aimed for his hat but tripped over dragon vertebrae instead. "Schmendrick!"

"I am a bearer!" Schmendrick squealed. "I am a _dwelling_! I am a _messenger_!"

"You are an idiot" bellowed a beefy voice. Kayley and Schmendrick spun as a two headed dragon waddled from the bones. One dragon head was lanky. The other head was dumpy. Both had periwinkle hides and snot colored eyes.

The lanky dragon head was named Devon. The dumpy head was called Cornwall.

Cornwall was caterwauling. "SHAAAAD UP! Shut yo' flipping mou–"

Abruptly, Devon and Cornwall paused. They _actually_ noticed the humans. Both blinked. Two heads. Four eyes. One stupefied expression.

Kayley and Schmendrick blinked back.

Both parties screamed.

"Back!" Kayley shrieked as Schmendrick brandished his hat. "Get back dragons! Back!"

"Humans!" Cornwall threw his left leg (his brain controlled the left). "Vikings!"

"Please!" Devon whimpered, skidding on his right leg (his brain controlled the right). "Don't hurt us!"

" _Don't hurt us?!_ Devon you stinkin' sausage brain! Don't beg! Scare them off! We are drag -" Cornwall remembered the humans. Feigning viciousness, he growled. "WE ARE DRAGONS! Ferocious hungry dragons! So go away before we eat you!"

"Rawr!" he added to spice up the threat. Devon halfheartedly joined, although he felt Cornwall was overacting. Sigh. The theater. No one cared about the theater. "Rawrarrrwwwwrrrrrrrrrr!"

Kayley and Schmendrick were decidedly unthreatened. They were actually a little confused.

"But…we're not Vikings." Kayley said. "At all."

"You're not?" Devon clutched his lanky neck. "Heavens! Then what are you?"

"What are you?" Schmendrick countered, surveying the two headed dragon. The halves were simultaneously thin, stout, proper, and crude. "What _are_ you?"

"Well frankly," snickered a _new_ voice by their knees. "They're the reason cousins shouldn't marry."

Everyone looked down.

A greasy little man looked up.

"Fifi."the little man said, lifting his demented pet goose. "Net please."

Fifi (the demented goose) honked. Dutifully, she plopped her feathered bottom on a hidden trigger. In a _snap_ , Kayley, Schmendrick, Devon, and Cornwall were hanging from the skeletal ribcage – trapped inside a wire net.

It was uncomfortable, not to mention frustrating. Devon and Cornwall somehow squirmed on top, squishing the humans beneath them. The harder they tried to escape, the more snarled they became.

To make matters worse, the little man was cackling. Kayley wanted to tear the smirk right off his face.

Alas she could not reach.

"Schmendrick!" Kayley kicked, accidentally walloping Cornwall. She twisted as the magician groaned. "Schmendrick use your magic!"

"Oh _he's_ Schmendrick!?" The little man danced around his goose. "Wonderful Fifi! Wonderful! Fifi my girl! We've found that wanted magician!"

Fifi celebrated with a passionate peck.

" _Rumpelstiltskin_ ," the little man congratulated himself. "You've done it again! Who would have thought that detour in the time paradox would pay off? I was expecting Darling and Pan, but I guess we hijacked the wrong time zone! They must be in the future!"

"Ah well," Rumpelstiltskin shrugged. "No young Pleiades Pan yet. The baby can wait. Sigh…"

Fifi sighed. Dolefully, Rumpelstiltskin flourished. "I suppose we'll have to settle for handing the magician over to Pitch instead. Get that scrumptious reward! And the dragons…? Well anything tastes good with ketchup. Waddaya think Fifi?"

Fifi agreed as Rumpelstiltskin's victims wailed. Kayley wrenched the wire mesh, which Rumpelstiltskin thought was very cute.

"Now none of that!" Rumpelstiltskin wagged a finger. He began pacing. Kayley was astounded: Rumpelstiltskin was _extremely_ diabolical for a midget. "I've got nothing against you, dear Kayley. Oh yes I know your name! Don't be surprised!"

Fifi nodded authoritatively as Rumpelstiltskin explained. "I know the name of _everyone_ that has a secret desire. I know the name of _everyone_ that wishes upon a star. _Everyone_. Every man, woman, boy, girl, animal, vegetable, mineral, and…" he glanced derisively at Devon and Cornwall. "…freak."

Devon huffed. Cornwall swore.

"Anyway!" Rumpelstiltskin said. "I can make all your wishes come true! I can make all your problems disappear! I turn a pauper to a prince. I can spin straw into gold. I can bring the dead to life. I can make a simple girl…into a knight."

Kayley stopped struggling. "You…can what?"

Rumpelstiltskin unfurled a gold printed parchment. It was a contract – a magical contract. Kayley was mesmerized. She could see her future spelled perfectly across the page.

"Kayley!" Schmendrick cautioned. "Kayley don't! Rumpelstiltskin is a con-artist! A charlatan! He never makes a deal without some sort of trade! He'll trick you! He'll grant your wish only if you sacrifice – "

Fifi snapped Schmendrick's nose. As they squawked, Rumpelstiltskin gestured sweetly to the signature line.

"All you need Kayley is a signature…and a dream."

"And that," said yet _another_ strange voice. "Is the worst sales pitch I have ever heard."

There was a moment's pause wherein Rumpelstiltskin cursed, Fifi quacked, and a newcomer emerged from the wreckage. Kayley couldn't quite see (Devon's foot was in her face), but at a glance the newcomer was tall, rugged, handsome –

"And blind! Blind beggar to the rescue!" Rumpelstiltskin threw a dragon femur at the newcomer. The leg bone spiraled harmlessly as the newcomer _somehow_ dodged at the last minute. Kayley thought she heard a shrill cry, and perhaps she saw a silver flash, but her view was obscured. (This time _Cornwall's_ foot was in her face).

"This isn't a rescue, Rumpel." The newcomer motioned vaguely with his staff. His direction was wide, but aggressive. "That's _my_ net. Those are _my_ captives."

Kayley began to protest, but Rumpelstiltskin interrupted.

"I don't like your attitude, Garrett. What's this, no code amongst thieves? Can't we all just get along?"

Garrett was disenchanted. "Not really. Not ever. And not when there's a reward. I heard you – " again Garrett waved his staff. " _My_ snare caught the magician. Ergo, I get the reward. Clear?"

"As crystal." Sneakily, Rumpelstiltskin withdrew a red vial. The liquid contents gurgled like digestive juices . "But maybe we can make a trade? A magical transaction?"

"Goodness." Garrett sardonically replied. He looked bored. And crabby. "What could you _possibly_ offer me that I don't have?"

" _Sight_!"

"Astounding."

"In exchange for the magician…" Rumpelstiltskin uncorked the vial. Garrett sniffed as Rumpelstiltskin smirked. "I will restore your vision. Just give me the magician. And the girl, just cause she's feisty."

Garrett almost smiled. Still sniffing, he bolstered his staff. "What is that you just uncovered? Dragon acid?"

Rumpelstiltskin proudly flicked the vial. "Yup!"

"Explosive?"

"And stinky."

"Oh I smelled it."

"You are a specimen, Garrett. For a hermit. And a handicap."

"You're too kind."

"Nope." Rumpelstiltskin flung the vial. "I'm too evil! Ha ha! Yay Fifi, girl! Take that you – "

The next sequence was the most beautifully choreographed parry Kayley had ever seen. As acid sprayed from Rumpelstiltskin's vial, a silver-winged falcon swept across its trajectory and screeched. In response, Garrett lightly swerved, avoiding the splash.

"Aw." Rumpelstiltskin and Fifi sagged. "Nuts."

The rest was simple and sweet. Garrett advanced (listening to his falcon for cues) and Rumpelstiltskin fled (Fifi galloping behind).

Garrett smiled. "Good day Frumpy Pig Skin." he murmured, raising an arm for his silver-winged falcon. "Nice work Aiden."

The falcon twittered. Lovingly, he nudged Garrett's chin. Garrett did not return as tenderly, but allowed Aiden to cuddle as he picked across the dragon skeletons.

It was impressive: Garrett guided himself flawlessly. His staff hovered like a third appendage, nimbly navigating the cluttered path.

"Wow." Kayley grinned. She shifted, trying to catch Garrett's attention as he passed. "That was incredible! How you smashed that creature! How you avoid his scheme! You're amazing. You're – "

Garrett rounded the net, inspecting the opposite side.

"…not even listening to me." Kayley scowled. She twisted, straining against Devon and Cornwall's tail. "Hey! Hey! Garrett! It's Garrett, right?"

Garrett did not respond. Presently he reemerged, Aiden on his shoulder. The falcon peered curiously at Kayley, but Garrett was disinterested. Ignoring her, he probed Schmendrick's face through the wire mesh, searching for the magician's facial landmarks.

"Um, hello?" Kayley rattled the chains. "Hello? _Helllllllo_?"

"Yo buddy!" yapped Cornwall. "The lady is talking to you!"

"And I think it's _high_ _time_ you show some decorum!" Devon added. "Embrace your inner gentility!"

"And spring us from this booby-trap." Cornwall muttered. "Well…everyone except Devon. Him you can shred to lunch meat."

Devon was offended. "That is uncouth! How can you be so cold blooded?"

"I'm a reptile!" Cornwall slithered his tongue.

"Ew!"

"Ew yourself!"

"Oh if I didn't have you!"

"Oh if I didn't have _you_!"

The dragons bickered. Garrett rapped Cornwall with his staff as the net swung. "Quiet! Both of you. I can't hear."

"Ears are the second to go." Cornwall grumbled, resentfully rubbing his nose. "Right after the eyes."

"Charming." Garrett murmured, tracing Schmendrick's features. His investigation turned gruff as Schmendrick struggled. "Original. Alright. Magician, you are Schmendrick, yes?"

"Schmendrick don't answer that!" Kayley said. "Don't tell him anythi – " Kayley trailed off, realizing that she'd said his name. " _Drat_."

Garrett was smug. "Keeps getting easier, and easier." he said, flipping his staff. Contemplatively he fingered the net. Then he addressed Aiden.

"This shelter will be fine for tonight. But we have to move in the morning. The Vikings won't stay away long. They'll be back…"

Aiden chirped. Garrett nodded. "I agree. Extremely peaceful."

"Oh my god." Cornwall moaned. "He's talking to the bird. We're dead."

"Not technically." corrected Devon. Still, he gulped nervously. "Not yet. Um, kind sir?! You're not going to sell us to the Vikings are you?"

"Cause we don't wanna be trained!" Cornwall thrashed emphatically (almost crushing Schmendrick). "Not with those other fire breathing bullies! You know, big shot dragons! Monstrous nightmares, night furies, deadly nadders -"

"Rumblehorns." shuddered Devon.

"Gronckles." Cornwall griped.

"Thunderdrums."

"Scauldrons."

"Flightmares."

"Changewings."

"Zipplebacks!"

"Devon how are you afraid of Zipplebacks?!"

"Oh no Corny, they're dreadful!"

"You blockhead."

"I'm not a blockhead!"

"Yes you are!"

"No I'm not!"

"If you both don't stop -" Garrett gestured at Schmendrick. "I'll send you where I'm sending him."

"Sending him?" Schmendrick panicked. "Where are you sending me?"

"Fantasia." Garrett turned. "There's a reward for your head."

" _What_?" Kayley and Schmendrick shouted. Garrett jumped, startled by their outburst.

"Reward for my head!?" Schmendrick wrung the net. "Why? What did I do? Why me?"

"Oh it's not just you." Garrett informed him. He stared blankly ahead, cheek on his staff. "Loads of others. The Magician Schmendrick, Elsa the snow queen. A slew of Fantasians – Jim Hawkins, Ariel Triton, Wendy Darling. And…"

Garrett smirked, clearly unconvinced. " _Arthur_. Fantasia's king. Apparently _His Majesty_ is somewhere in the Otherland. Along with his magical sword."

Kayley and Schmendrick gasped. Garrett tilted his head and frowned, detecting their startle.

"Something the matter? Captives?"

Kayley and Schmendrick made eye contact. Schmendrick shook his head, warning Kayley to avert the truth – that the king of Fantasia was the Otherland's Once and Future King.

"Who wants him?" Kayley finally asked. "Who wants... Arthur?" she swallowed. It was the first time she spoke his name. "Who wants Fantasia's king?"

She knew the answer before Garrett divulged.

"Someone named Pitch Black. And…the new ruler." Garrett made air quotes. " _King_ Ruber."

* * *

 **...**

* * *

 **sultal's note: No OC policiy - "Rumpelstiltskin and Fifi" are characters from Shrek 4.**


	97. Chapter 97: Frostbite

**Chapter 97: Frostbite**

"This boy is not Arthur Pendragon…"

Ruber wove between a boy and girl; both children were adolescents, blindfolded, and very scared. Their names were Christopher Robin and Anne-Marie.

Christopher was a Fantasian. Anne-Marie was an Otherlander. But that was irrelevant. They were victims; two tallies on a gravestone. Captain Hook had captured Christopher from Bunny's tunnels. Drago had captured Anne-Marie from an orphanage. Ruber had brought the children to the Great Wall, so all of his kingdom (both the Otherland and Fantasia) would see them die.

Yes die. King Arthur was hidden in the Otherland. So was his magical sword. Somehow, the Fantasians had lost the battle but won the war. The villains were furious. A message had to be sent; child slaughter usually did the trick.

"And this girl…" Ruber yanked Anne-Marie's black bob. "Is not Elsa Arendelle. Or Ariel Triton. Or Wendy Darling."

Several paces aloft, Peter shivered. A happy memory flickered against his inner demon, pushing Peter's subconscious into the conscious state. As Peter wrestled with his shadow, Pitch silently summoned a nightmare. The nightmare burrowed into Peter's brain, doubling the shadow's potency.

Peter calmed. As Pitch regained control, Peter's body hung with the buoyancy of a puppet. His vigor was artificial and his expressions were wooden. Peter was possessed.

But Pitch was still irritated. And uneasy. Shadow working was not Pitch's specialty (his forte was nightmares), and he had underestimated Wendy.

True, Miss Darling was _not_ a powerful shadow worker. Not by a long stretch.

However, her powers _were_ unorthodox.

Since Pitch was created from shadows, he had encountered many shadow workers. Historically, shadow workers _tamed_ shadows. The stronger the shadow worker, the quicker to tame, the easier to possess.

It was an unrewarding career; a shadow's fear could literally scare a shadow worker to death. Shadow workers that could withstand the fear were successful. Shadow workers that could embrace the fear were _unbeatable_. Yen Sid, for example.

But Wendy was unorthodox. She did not embrace the fear; she shielded it with happy thoughts. And she did not tame Peter's shadow; she _befriended_ it. Instead of fighting fire with fire, she was fighting fire with water.

Strange. Uncomfortable. Revolutionary.

Pitch rolled his fingers contemplatively behind his back. Wendy's powers were weaker, but her unconventional approach made Peter's shadow harder to control. For that reason, _Peter_ was harder to control. Harder, but not impossible.

Pitch beckoned Peter as Ruber tied nooses around Christopher and Anne-Marie. When the children were strung, Pitch snapped, directing Peter to fling them from the wall. The order was given. Peter lurched. For three seconds he fought his shadow. Then, he mindlessly pushed the children.

Christopher and Anne-Marie fell. The onlookers winced as their little necks jerked, cracked, and broke. They hung in the stunned silence – suspended lifelessly from the ropes.

"For every day Arthur Pendragon goes missing…" Ruber hollered, swinging his sword over the Great Wall. "A Fantasian will die! For every day his magical sword is lost, an Otherlander will die as well! I am king! And I declare Arthur Pendragon, Schmendrick the magician, Elsa Arendelle, Jim Hawkins, Wendy Darling, and Ariel Triton threats to the crown! A reward will be granted for their capture. Death will be granted if they are not!"

Ruber spread his arms, pointing simultaneously to Pitch, Drago, and Captain Hook.

"My armies are waiting to attack! Give me Fantasia or I will use them!" Ruber nudged Christopher's rope. The boy's body swayed. "I want Pendragon. I want his sword. And I will kill every man, woman, and child until he is found."

The threat was received. Even the Vikings cried. The Otherlanders dispersed, spreading King Ruber's decree across the land. Captain Hook's villains resumed their hunt for Fantasians, and the Vikings dismally followed.

Together they dug Fantasians from the tunnels underground.

It was an unhappy business. The Vikings were ambivalent, but what could they do? King Arthur had killed Chief Stoick, and the tribe was devastated. Revenge was justified, but the Vikings could not help feeling remorseful. Drago still controlled their dragons, and "King" Ruber was using them to murder children.

Vikings were many things…sloppy, crude, and rough around the edges…but they were not cruel. At least, not this cruel. Something was wrong.

"Hanging kids? Yeesh. Normally I'd say cool, but for Ruber's sake?" Tuffnutt trudged after Gaston, Scar, and the Queen of Hearts. "I'm not buying it."

"Yeah. We're not buying what he's selling!" Ruffnutt yelled over her shoulder. "We don't want your cookies!"

"I feel terrible." Fishlegs cried. Tears plinked onto his helmet. "I feel sick to my stomach."

"Oh yeah?" Astrid cast a lethal, backwards glance. "How do you think those kids felt?"

Fishlegs bawled. He pined for his dragon. "I want Meatlug!"

"Meatlug is history." said Snoutlout. "Our dragons are toast. So long as Drago controls them…"

The Vikings looked up. Each found their mesmerized dragon and sighed. They felt powerless. Without their dragons, they were cut at the knees.

"This has to stop." Astrid searched for Captain Hook. She grimaced as the pirate stabbed his sword underground.

Deciding Captain Hook was reasonably distracted, Astrid slowly retreated. "Snoutlout, Fishlegs, you distract Captain Hook. Keep him away from Stoick's body. I'm going to investigate – that injury _did not_ look like a blade wound. Stoick's armor was burned, I _bet_ his heart was too. Ruff, Tuff – you come with me."

"Us?" Ruffnutt and Tuffnutt blinked. Astrid wouldn't have trusted the twins to make her peanut butter sandwich. "You want us to help?"

"Yes. We need to be sneaky."

Ruffnutt and Tuffnutt shared an identical evil grin.

"Sister – " Tuffnutt turned melodramatically to Ruffnutt. "One might say that dear Astrid requires our devious intellect."

"Agreed, brother." said Ruffnutt, shouldering her spear. "One might even say that our flaxen haired friend is incapable without us."

"Don't go that far." Astrid grumbled.

Ruffnutt and Tuffnutt totally 'went that far.'

"Shall we save the day?" Tuffnutt flourished, paving the way.

Ruffnutt accepted. "We shall."

"You go girl!" Snoutlout cheered at Ruffnutt. "Strut your stuff! By the way...you look fantastic!"

Fishlegs (not to be ignored) blew Ruffnutt a kiss. "I'll miss you! Absence makes the heart grow fonder!"

"And companionship gives you heartburn." Tuffnutt mumbled as Ruffnutt gagged. It sucked being the only single Viking lady in Berk. "Astrid – where are we mischief making?"

Astrid slunk along the Great Wall.

"Stoick's body." she replied, glancing furtively at Ruber and Pitch. The villains were preoccupied, but Peter Pan was spying.

Swallowing her apprehension, Astrid continued at a brisk pace. "I don't trust Drago. If King Arthur killed Stoick, I want to see for myself! Then after that…."

Astrid wrung her axe. "We're finding Hiccup. I know he's grieving, but Hiccup is Stoick's heir. Someone has to knock some sorry sense into his head."

The twins heckled. They hadn't much "sense" but they were really good at knocking it into people! Clocking helmets, they followed Astrid into Fantasia.

Merida and Robin watched their departure.

"Dirty Vikings." Merida growled. She muffled a cough. Smoke and ash fluffed from her hair. "I'd like te stick them all."

Robin concurred. But he was cautious. "Peter's no help. And King Arthur is lost." Robin crouched against the burned stone. "Jim, Ariel, and Wendy must be alive. If they weren't Ruber wouldn't offer the reward for their capture."

"Aye. That's true." Merida edged beside him. Together, they surveyed the scene. "We'll have to trust in fate – believe that they'll come. Fantasia could use them right now."

"Yes. But in the meantime…." Robin traced his bow. Both he and Merida eyed the children hanging from Ruber's gallows. "We're fighting back."

"Time to be superheroes?" Merida asked.

Robin donned his mask. "About time."

"Secret handshake?"

"To infinity and beyond."

They interchanged, their secret handshake crackling like never before. With a final hip-bump and butt-slap, Robin and Merida raced to save their fellow Fantasians.

It was a dismal day. So dismal, no one noticed the cold.

No one except Pitch.

"Ah." Pitch studied the northern horizon. Several, tiny snowflakes whisked from the distant clouds, sprinkling his cheeks. Delicately Pitch tapped, sticking a single snowflake to his finger. The snowflake did not melt. Rather, it crystallized against his icy skin.

"Jackpot." Pitch whispered. His eyes flicked to the distant north. "Cold and dark."

* * *

 **.. . ... ... ... ... .. ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ...**

* * *

"Elsa! Hold on! We're almost – "

Jack tumbled into the snow. Elsa crunched beneath him as the dragons blew fire across the North Pole. The ice glowed red and the Aurora Borealis turned orange, but Elsa blended seamlessly into her surroundings. Her wedding dress and white hair were camouflaged perfectly by the whirling snow.

"It's okay Elsa!" Jack reassured, even though Elsa could not hear. Hurriedly, he carried her through the blizzard. "It's okay, I've got you, you're safe! Don't worry, this is the North Pole. We'll find North's workshop and – "

Suddenly the blizzard became black. Nightmares leapt from the snow, falling between Jack and Elsa. Elsa threw icicle shards as Jack raised his staff, but the wooden crook twisted violently from his hands. Someone had grabbed it from above.

Instinctively Jack tightened his hold. As he looked up, Peter Pan appeared before wrenching both Jack and his staff skyward.

Elsa felt Jack disappear. She was alone. Nightmares flew into mind, replaying the moment her magic struck King Arthur's heart. Elsa collapsed, unable to endure the memory. And as she dropped, her fear escalated, triggering the wintry magic inside her.

Her powers exploded. Enchanted snow clashed into the nightmares, corroding them with icy chemicals. Elements of cold and dark sparkled together. The forces molded into an edifice that rose like a palace over the snow.

Suddenly everything was quiet.

Elsa breathed. She opened her eyes. The palace had formed around her, smooth as glass and dark as night. Whichever way she turned, her reflection looked back.

But curiously, the icy floor was scattered with black fragments. Elsa touched one. She was surprised. The fragments were metal. And they were cold. Terribly cold – even for her.

"That was the Black Cauldron." explained a voice. "If you freeze the pieces back together, King Arthur may be brought back to life."

Elsa spun, turning to the voice that had spoken. It was a man, very tall, very slender, and very dark except for his luminous eyes.

"Hello Elsa." he said.

Elsa shrunk. She squeezed the Black Cauldron fragment as the man gently approached. He was smiling, very kindly, but Elsa was scared.

"What…" she trembled. "What do you mean bring King Arthur back to life? Where is he? Is Arthur alright?"

The man paused.

"Oh Elsa. Dear Elsa…" His smiled flattened to a sympathetic line. "You killed him. At the wedding – your magic froze King Arthur's heart."

Elsa stopped breathing.

"I…Arthur is..."

Elsa wept. For how long she did not know, but when the man finally spoke her lap was covered in snowflake tears.

"There is way to bring Arthur back."

The man knelt. Caressing her neck, he placed the Black Cauldron fragment into her hand. The metal stung – Elsa felt it eating her skin.

"Only you can rebuild the Black Cauldron." the man whispered. His breath tickled her ear. "Only you have the power to freeze it together. Your ice is magical - it can meld the metal fragments to one."

Elsa breathed. "But... the Black Cauldron..."

"Yes." The man said, reading her mind. "The Black Cauldron. You've seen it before. You know of it's power. Six years ago, you fought a battle because the Black Cauldron brought shadows to Fantasia. But Elsa... shadows are _souls_. Souls of the _dead_. "

He waited, allowing Elsa the time she needed to comprehend.

"So…" The man continued as Elsa dawned. "If you can rebuild the Black Cauldron with your magic… and I can bring a shadow worker to summon Arthur's soul…. your king will return."

"And then," the man added, stroking Elsa's cheek. "You will have no reason to cry."

Elsa rotated the Black Cauldron fragment, her hope rising with each turn.

"Who are you?" she asked.

The man laughed. He seemed happily incredulous.

"Elsa. Don't you recognize me? Look…" he gestured to the palace. "Look at what our powers have created. The beauty. The splendor. The strength."

The man smiled.

"Elsa." he said, smoothing her hair. "I am Jack."

* * *

 **.. . ... ... ... ... .. ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ...**

* * *

Jack and Peter tussled.

And then Pitch showed up.

"Jack Frost. You know for being invisible you put on quite the display." Pitch rolled haughtily over the snow. Nightmares trailed behind as he drawled. "Siding with the guardians, fleeing dragons, saving pretty Fantasian maids."

"Maids? Fanta – " Jack raised his staff. "Where is Elsa? What have you done to – "

"Elsa is splendid. Quite well in fact." Pitch summoned Peter. As Peter stooped, Pitch ran a hand conversationally through his red hair. "I can see why you fancy her, Jack. And I can see why you'd want her to remain untainted and alive."

Jack skid, withholding his attack.

"What do you mean untainted and alive?"

Pitch nodded, congratulating Jack's attentiveness.

"It means that my nightmares are guarding Elsa. It means she is trapped inside a palace, made of cold and darkness. It means that if you refuse to do as I say, then I will kill her. Well…"

Pitch shrugged. "After I enjoy her. She is beautiful Jack, and nothing is so complimentary as cold and dark."

"No!" Jack acted before thinking. His staff cracked against the nightmares, but he could not reach Pitch. Furiously Jack swung, stumbling through the snow. "No! If you hurt her –!"

"That is your decision." Pitch said as Peter sprung from the nightmares. Jack swerved but Peter was faster – in one elegant maneuver he snatched Jack's staff and handed it to Pitch.

"I will make this simple." Pitch twirled the staff across Jack's glare. "Do as I say, and Elsa goes free."

Jack clenched his fists. They were empty without his staff, but his insides were emptier without Elsa.

"Fine." Jack stepped. "What do you want?"

"A trade." Pitch replied, giving Peter Pan a malicious rub. "I believe you are acquainted with the shadow worker, Wendy Darling?"

* * *

 **sultal's note: No OC Policy = Anne-Marie from "All Dogs Go To Heaven."**


	98. Chapter 98: Stop Acting Like A Mermaid

**Chapter 98: Stop Acting Like A Mermaid**

Ariel dialed the volume to the lowest audible setting. She repeated the adjustment on the electric switch, dimming the light. When the parameters were set, she plugged her trident into a gigantic outlet in the center of the grotto.

 _Huuuuuuuuuuuuummmmmmmmmm_.

The undersea grotto vibrated. Energy flowed from the trident and into Ariel's electronic systems. Computers woke up, radios turned on, sonar microphones captured animal sounds from the ocean, and the antique Victrola gently revolved.

Ariel fiddled with the master volume. It was still too loud. Her cavern was stacked with every appliance imaginable. Although she'd lowered the volume beforehand the aggregate noise was substantial.

Ariel huffed. She might as well broadcast their whereabouts to Captain Hook. Lana, Cordelia, and Adella had probably returned to the ocean by now – they'd undoubtedly hear the noise. Moreover, the grotto was lit like a candle. It was only a matter of time before they were discovered.

Regardless, Ariel began detaching cables and disconnecting speakers. She reduced the sound not to prevent exposure per se, but out of respect for her unconscious guests.

Jim and Wendy were cooked. Literally. Their outsides were burned by dragon fire, and their insides were asphyxiated with smoke. Ariel hurt just looking at them. She'd immediately treated both with starfish resin (a natural tissue regenerator), but the kindest remedy was unconsciousness. Jim and Wendy would suffer when they woke.

The others…

Ariel glanced at the Otherland guardians. It was almost comical. They were piled in a colorful heap – Tooth on Bunny, Bunny on North, North snoozing under his overturned sleigh, the reindeer dispersed in-between.

None of the guardians were injured as Wendy or Jim, but the undersea journey had been rough. Ariel had saved Jim and Wendy first – North, Tooth, and Bunny had almost drowned. Whoops.

Ariel shifted as microphones crackled. Dolphin chirps tickered through the external speakers. Ariel listened as the message played. She translated most of it, but the volume was set too low for her to completely understand.

However, Ariel _did_ detect that the message was from Eric – the _Dolphin_ dialect was computerized. Real dolphins giggled and squeaked when they spoke – it was never so robotic.

Ariel assessed her computer screen. Keeping Jim in full view, she copied Eric's message into a word file. The message configured – loaded –

 **What happened in Fantasia?! Ariel are you down there? Are you alright?**

Ariel read the message twice before remembering – her father had temporarily exiled Eric after their argument.

' _Petty Officer Sebastian. Make sure he leaves. I want him out of sight.'_ Admiral Triton had ordered. _'Put him on a ship and see that he stays there.'_

 _Gosh. Ironic._ Ariel typed a lengthy reply, explaining the situation. As she awaited Eric's return message she marveled. _Daddy's punishment probably saved Eric's life. Eric wasn't in Fantasia during the attack. Ironic._

Eric responded swiftly. He sent two more messages before Ariel translated the first.

The first message: **Vikings? Shadows? CAPTAIN HOOK? But that's impossible – Captain Hook is dead.**

The second message: **What about King Arthur? Where is he? And Elsa, the queen?**

The third message: **You must be so scared. Ariel if your cousins are back from the dead (impossible by the way), then you are not safe down there. We are tracking** _ **The Princess**_ **, but if you can get here we'll turn around. Can you? Can Crush bring you to the WFC?**

Ariel read Eric's shorthand and nodded. The WFC (Western Fantasian Current) was an oceanic superhighway that transported marine life at breakneck speeds. Crush (Ariel's current director) was a sea turtle that navigated the route.

Ariel stroked the keyboard, thinking. She was still furious at Eric, but he was right. She was not safe here. Neither were Jim, Wendy, or the fairy-tale guardians. And Fantasia was the _least_ safe. If they were going to save Fantasia, Ariel, Jim, and Wendy would need a secure base to regroup.

Decision made, Ariel typed an acceptance. **Yes, I can make it to the WFC. I'm here with Jim, Wendy and "others." They're hurt, so it will be tricky to transport –**

Jim groaned. Ariel paused, fingers suspended over the keys. As he murmured, Tooth also stirred. Both were waking.

Ariel deleted her message.

 **Eric –** she hastily retyped, ignoring the misspellings – **yes I can get 2 the wfc but can u wiat? Jim is waking and hes hurt.**

She rapped the ' _translate and send_ ' button. Eric's answer was curt.

 **Fine. Hurry.**

Ariel ignored the implied tone. Minimizing the chat screen, she clicked a secured file and blindly punched the password ( _pleiades4_ ). As the computer released distress signals across the sonar grid, Ariel grabbed a starfish and knelt beside Jim.

"Jesus…" Jim moaned. He groped blearily as Ariel smoothed starfish resin over his burns. "God… smell."

Ariel smiled. She couldn't help it. Starfish resin _was_ stinky – lots of algae and fish excretions. Great for healing, but unmarketable as a body lotion.

Jim slipped back to unconsciousness as Ariel applied the resin. Morph assisted by rubbing the burns with his pink tail, and kissing Jim when he became agitated. Morph even helped Ariel to remove Jim's robotic suit, a simple flick of the switch that Ariel would have never discovered by herself. It was a brilliant move by Morph. As his suit detached, Jim's chest filled with air. His breathing normalized, and the moaning subsided.

"Um…hello?"

Ariel looked up, hand on Jim's brow. Tooth smiled shyly, mini-fairies cradled in her arms.

"Hi." Tooth repeated. "Um. We met before, a little while ago. On the pirate ship. Remember?"

Ariel surveyed the fairy's rainbow feathers and pearly wings. Silently she nodded.

"Oh good. You remember. Um…" Tooth settled across Ariel. Out of compassionate habit, she brushed Wendy's hair. "My name is Toothiana. Tooth. I'm the toothfairy."

Ariel's eyebrows rose. _Really?_ She pointed to her teeth. _As in THE toothfairy?_

Tooth could infer Ariel's response. However, she still asked. "Can you speak?"

Ariel shook her head. _No._

"Then...Schmendrick was right? There's a black enchantment living in your throat?"

Ariel flicked her windpipe. _Yup._

"Yikes. I'm sorry."

Ariel shrugged. Gliding resin under Jim's collar, she nodded curiously at Tooth's companions – both of whom were rousing.

"Oh. Them?" Tooth grimaced as Bunny flopped over North. "That's Bunnymund and North. You might know them by different names – Easter Bunny and Santa Clause?"

Ariel was extremely intrigued. Tooth let her admire a moment before continuing.

"North, Bunny, and I are the Otherland guardians. Well we're three of the four. Sandy…"

Tooth welled. Less kindly, she regarded Wendy. "This girl? This girl that Sandy saved. Is she…a shadow worker?"

Ariel scooched a little closer to Wendy. _Yes,_ she nodded suspiciously as Jim croaked. _She is. Why?_

Tooth tried not to frown. "Because – Pitch – "

" _Ariel_."

Ariel disappeared as Jim seized her in a hard, wobbly hug. Propped on one arm, Jim stammered over and over. "Oh thank god, oh thank god, oh thank god – "

The bitterness she'd held against Jim dissolved. Anger forgotten, Ariel supported Jim and smiled despite his fluster.

"Ariel I thought I'd never see you again. _Why_ did you leave? Peter was lying, he's an asshole, you _know_ that. Don't ever leave me like that again, we agreed, remember? Oh my god…Ariel…"

Jim buried into her shoulder. Between the mire of _'oh my gods'_ and ' _Ariels_ ,' Jim's peripheral concerns came out.

"Sinbad – I saw Sinbad. He was there, he was in Fantasia. Sinbad has Mom, the _son of a bitch_ took my mom! He's gone I let him escape I couldn't – there was fire everywhere. Dragons. Shadows. Nightmares. They just came from nowhere – they just. Arthur. _Arthur_! Arthur is gone, he's gone! Shit he's – oh my god Peter is – his shadow – and – Wen? Wendy? Shit where is – "

"She's right here."

Bunny and North had risen. Together they propped Wendy upright, North holding her shoulders and Bunny cupping her chin.

"And since she killed Sandy – " Bunny raised a paw, "It's about time she stopped sleeping."

"Wait!" Tooth objected as Ariel and Jim lunged. "Bunny don't – "

 _Slap._

* * *

 ** _... ... ... ... ... ... ..._**

* * *

Wendy jolted awake. It was a rude awakening. Her body ached. Her head throbbed. Her cheek stung. Jim was shouting.

"Are you _crazy_?! What the Hell do you think you're doing! Let her go you – "

Four pairs of hands played tug-of-war with her body. Wendy tried to resist, but her strength was mushy as her brain.

"J-jm-mmm." Wendy grimaced. Her mouth wasn't working correctly either.

Sluggishly, she tried to remember where she was and how she'd gotten there. Emotions came first – panic, terror, sadness – along with a racing heart. Pain came next. Wendy felt blisters on her forearms and cuts on her cheeks. Higher facilities came last. Her brain was dry as a walnut and her veins tingled with an acidic burn – _that was odd. Had she shadow worked? She must have, her veins only felt like that after she'd_ –

Wendy remembered. Suddenly and viciously, her thoughts re-catalogued the entire battle in a single second. The wedding – the dragons – the Vikings – the villains – the nightmares – the shadows – Pitch – Sandman – and –

"Peter!" Wendy babbled nonsensically as Jim wrestled her from Bunny. "Peter the shadow his thimble nightmares the boogie man Peter – he's gone he's gone he's gone he's gone – "

"I'll tell you who else is gone!" Bunny pointed violently up Ariel's grotto. " _Sandman_! Thanks to you _shadow worker_ , Pitch got under the beds, into Fantasia, and BOOM! Now Sandy is gone!"

Wendy was overwhelmed. "What is – who _are_ you –?"

"I'm the Easter Bunny!" Bunny hopped, once to emphasize his rage, once to emphasize his title. "Bunny the Easter Bunny, North is Santa Clause, Tooth is the tooth fairy, and Sandy WAS the Sandman until _you_ let Pitch butcher his hide!"

"I –? Sandman –? He—?"

"He's gone!" Bunny was beside himself. "What don't you _understand_ about that, shadow worker? Sandman is gone! Pitch Black killed Sandy, and it just so happens that _you_ were there! You and your dirty shadows – "

"Hey!" Jim yelled, leaping to Wendy's defense. He had _no_ idea what Bunny was ranting about, but there was _no way_ he was letting Wendy take blame. "Lay off, Cotton Tail! Back off! Who the Hell do you think you are? Who the Hell do _any_ of you think you are?"

"We are guardians! Guardians of the Otherland." Bunny crossed his arms, tattoos bulging over his biceps. "Who do any of _you_ think you are?"

Ariel responded. Jim translated.

"We are guardians. Guardians of Fantasia. Asshole – " he added, just because.

North made a mental note: Swearing. Fantasian guardians, all on the Naughty List.

* * *

 ** _... ... ... ... ... ... ..._**

* * *

The story was retold six different ways. It was depressing, disheartening, and incredibly 'messed up.' But with each version the Otherland guardians were convinced: Sandman's death was Wendy's fault.

"But I _tried_ to help him." Wendy insisted. Tearfully, she wrung her bowler. "And I am _not_ working with Pitch! Pitch – "

"Have you been having nightmares?" Bunny demanded. His enormous foot was speed tapping through the floor. "Ever dream about Pitch?"

"Well yes. But I – "

"Well there you have it!" Bunny thumped his toes. "Guilty as charged!"

"Okay calm down!" Jim elbowed between Bunny and North. "She isn't -"

"But I'm not guilty!" Wendy interjected. "Please believe me! The nightmares hurt! I tried to get rid of them! I'd never – "

"Nightmares are how Pitch controlled shadow workers in the past." Tooth quietly explained. "Shadow workers are wired for unhappy memories. The dream pathways in your brain are high tech – so to speak. If you opened your brain – "

Bunny hacked, suggesting they do so.

"—you would see enlarged, darkened areas." Tooth continued, glaring at Bunny. "Black routes for dreams. Black lobes for fear. Pitch is a shadow himself Wendy. To him, your brain is an open highway without traffic."

"So…" Tooth clarified. "We're not saying that you _purposely_ sided with Pitch. We just think that he might be …controlling you."

Wendy touched her temple. " _Controlling_ me? But that's imposs –"

"Impossible? Nope. Try again." Bunny glowered beside North. "You said you met Sandy in the Underworld before all this started, right?"

"Yes." Wendy consented, her frustration growing. "But I _didn't_ harm him. I was _actually_ catching nightmares and trying to stop them! I met Sandman, and he taught me to turn nightmares into dreams – "

"You what?"

"What?"

"Repeat, _devotshka_." North said. Until this moment, he'd been silently observing. As the facts unfolded, he began building an explanation as he would build a toy. But Wendy's previous comment drew his inquiry. "You were catching what? Did you say…nightmares?"

Wendy glanced at Jim. Jim shook his head, warning her not to speak but North pressed again.

"You were catching nightmares? _Da_?"

"Yes." Wendy admitted, sensing their concern. "But I had been chasing nightmares _well_ over a year. And it was _completely_ harmless. _Completely_. My shadow removed the nightmare from a sleeping child – I sewed on pixie dust – the nightmare ended – and my shadow flew up the hole – replaced the nightmare – and _no one got hurt_!"

Bunny frowned. "Hole?"

"Yes." Wendy said, exasperated. "Holes! I was stuck in the Underworld, I couldn't cross the magical barrier, so I drilled holes under beds to – "

" _Under beds_?" Bunny, North, and Tooth gawked. "You -? Under beds?"

"No you didn't. Right?" Tooth caught her minifairies as they swooned. "You mean inside a bedroom – but not specifically under beds? Right?"

Wendy backed against the cavern. Bunny and North were bearing down, scalding her with hot, horrified glares.

"I…is that…bad?"

Oh it was bad. Very.

"Pitch is the nightmare king! The Boogie Man!" Bunny clenched his ears. "Haven't you ever heard of monsters under the bed!?"

"Yes." Wendy stammered, heart pounding and eyes brimming. "But –"

"Well that's PITCH!" Bunny roared. "Nightmares, shadows, monsters, fear - _everything_ that gives Pitch POWER lives under the bed! _Under the bed_ is not just a childhood myth! _Under the bed_ is a dangerous, magical place! Under the bed is evil! Under the bed is wicked! Under the bed is where children disappear and never come back! You – how many holes did you drill?"

"I – "

"How many?"

"I don't kn —"

"How many?!"

"I can't remem –"

"Damn it shadow worker! HOW MANY?"

"I don't know!" Wendy cried, two tears bursting down her cheeks. It was too much. Wendy was so distraught _she_ didn't know if she guilty or innocent. "I don't know, I can't remember! But I didn't mean to hurt anyone, I didn't mean to give Pitch a way under the beds – "

"Well ya did!" Bunny snarled. "Pitch attacked Fantasia from the inside out! You saw the nightmare sand, right? You saw how the sand poured from the inside households?"

"Yes but -"

"Well THAT means Pitch was already under the beds!" Bunny wacked North's belly. "And THAT means he's running around your Underworld!"

Wendy's mouth dropped. "But how? How did he get into the Underworld?"

"You tell us shadow worker! Somebody let him! And I _wonder_ who it could have been!"

"It wasn't me!" Wendy pleaded. '"Please it wasn't me!"

"It wasn't she!" Bunny mocked.

"Stop it, I didn't – "

"Did you drill holes under beds?"

"Yes! But – "

"Have you been having nightmares?"

"I _told_ you that I tried to get rid of th– "

"Did your boyfriend get possessed by Pitch?"

"He – "

"And is it just coincidence that you lured Sandy to Pitch? And now Sandy is deader than a doornail?"

Wendy was ashamed. But she couldn't stop crying. "I was only trying to help!"

Bunny jabbed Wendy's needle and thread. "Sterling job, shadow worker! Cacka-lacking job! Sandy is dead! Fantasia is burning! The Otherland is endangered! Your King Whatever is gone! And all because you call yourself a _guardian_! Ha! Well let me tell you! The last shadow worker that called himself a guardian was _beheaded_! Looks like your following in his footsteps little miss shadow wor – "

"Shut up!" Jim shoved. Ariel and Tooth flew between them as North caught Jim's fist. Bunny was fortunate – Jim would have fractured his furry nose. It would have cracked like an egg. An Easter egg.

The brawl quickly ended. Neither contender had enough energy to fight – they were all drained from the battle. So, each guardian retreated to his or her own corner: North with his reindeer, Bunny behind the sleigh, Tooth with her minifairies, Jim with Ariel, and Wendy alone.

"Asshole." Jim repeated, directing his profanity at Bunny's ears (the only part visible behind the sleigh). "I don't care if he is the freaking Easter Bunny. Wen is – she'd never – Jesus _I'd know_ if something was wrong with her! _I'd know_ if she sided with Pitch. _Kuh_. Asshole."

Ariel did not respond. She stared icily into her computer screen as Jim ranted.

"We've got bigger problems than this." Jim said, massaging his red scar. "Sinbad has Mom. I gotta find her. And Arthur is gone, we've gotta find him. If the Fantasians are trapped inside that idiot rabbit's tunnels, we need to find them too. Mulan, Shang, Bubbles, your dad – anyone that can fight."

Ariel nodded. She agreed.

"Okay." Jim kissed Ariel's hair. It was a forceful, ' _give me your strength_ ' kiss. "Okay babe, you work on getting us to the surface. I know you can do it best. I'm going to make sure Wen is alright. We'll need Wendy to fight Pitch if – "

Suddenly, Ariel scoffed. _'Wen' first. Just like always._

Jim stopped. Astounded.

"What did you say?"

 _Nothing._ Ariel hunched against the computer. Jim read her lips through the screen. _Go ahead. Be a good big brother._

Jim was incredulous.

"Look at me. Ariel look at – " He rounded the chair, forcing Ariel to face him. Her bitterness was transparent. "Are you being sarcastic?"

She glowered.

Jim inferred. "Okay. Why did you say that?"

Ariel kneaded her throat. _Didn't. Remember?_

"That's not needed."

 _But it's true._

"What's true?" Jim squeezed the armrests, locking Ariel inside. "That you can't speak, or that you're buying into Peter's crap about me and Wendy? _Because_ – "

Jim lifted, voice slightly ferocious. "Because I _love_ you Ariel Triton. Wendy means a lot to me, _yes_. And I mean a lot to Wendy, _sure_. You like Peter's version of the story? _Well here's mine:_ Once upon a fucked up time Wendy and I needed each other to survive, so we became part of each other's systems. There's no happily ever after, that's just the way it is."

Jim growled. "Ariel _I love you_. I want to marry you. I want to grow old with you. And if a billion stars fell, I'd wish on every single one that you were carrying my child. Do you hear me, Ariel? _I love you_."

Ariel stared. She calmly blinked.

Before answering, she rubbed the impatient, empty spot on her ring finger.

 _It takes more than words Jim._

Jim recoiled.

"Stop acting like a mermaid." he breathed, crossing the cavern to Wendy.


	99. Chapter 99: Our F---ing Lives

**Chapter 99: Our F***ing Lives**

Wendy heard the quarreling. Actually, she heard Jim's uncouth language and assumed the worst. Jim _never_ swore at Ariel. He hardly swore in her presence. Wendy was the only female member privy to _that_ pleasure. Whatever they were arguing about, it must be awful. Wendy couldn't imagine.

And she didn't try. Bunny's accusations were _so_ harrowing, Wendy couldn't stop thinking of anything else. Every inadvertent crime replayed over and over without resolution. Every unhappy thought was followed by Tooth's petrifying suggestion – that Pitch Black was controlling her mind. But most unbearable of all, was Peter. Peter was lost to the shadows. She couldn't save him. Peter was –

Wendy covered her eyes. Tears leaked between her fingers. She tried to stop crying, but everything inside her was hurting.

"Stubborn…selfish….silly…boy." Wendy removed her bowler. Propping it upside-down on her knees, she buried her face inside. Shoulders shaking, she silently filled the hat with tears.

Someone touched her back.

"Hey. It's okay."

Wendy jumped. Tooth smiled as she hastily straightened, cheeks shinning and nose red. Wendy spluttered something apologetic that Tooth presumed was a blanket statement – Wendy was sorry for what she'd done, sorry that Sandman was gone, sorry that she was a shadow worker, and sorry that Tooth caught her crying.

"Oh. Don't worry. It's okay." Tooth settled. "Really. You – "

Wendy recoiled as Tooth sat.

Tooth's heart broke. Wendy was afraid of her. It was dismaying, especially for Tooth. True, the guardians had been harsh with Wendy. Sandman's death was devastating, and they were worried Wendy was unwittingly involved. After all, she was a shadow worker – fear was healthy. At least, it had been in the past.

Regardless, Tooth, North, Sandman (and even Bunny) were samaritans. They had big-hearts and they loved kids – even the grown up ones. _Especially_ the grown up ones. Even grownups needed childhood magic – especially when they were afraid.

"Those boys didn't mean it. You know?" Gingerly, Tooth rubbed circles between Wendy's shoulders. "Boys are blunt. That's just the way they are. Sometimes it's hard being a girl. You think with your head and your heart. And sometimes…the two don't agree."

Tooth gave a kind _pat, pat, pat_ as Wendy fought tears.

"It's okay Wendy. We'll figure this out. Bunny and North were just upset. That's all. They didn't mean that you were a bad guardian."

Bunny's oversized ears twitched from where he was eavesdropping.

"Yes." he corrected derisively. "We did!"

"Bunny!" Tooth scolded. She turned on a hip, ready to insult Bunny's dental hygiene when Wendy's sorrow got the better of her. Reprimand cut short, Tooth consoled her.

"Don't listen to Bunny. He's-"

" -right." Wendy swallowed tears. "He's - right. I - they - Sandman - Peter -"

Tooth didn't know what to say. Wendy was inconsolable.

"It's okay." Tooth reassured, signaling her mini-fairies. "Don't cry. Everything is going to be okay…"

Tooth's mini-fairies (eager to help) snuggled Wendy wherever they could perch – feet, tummy, wrist, hair. Tooth waited for them to situate, and encouraged Wendy to admire.

"Awwww look," Tooth said sunnily. "They like you!"

Wendy wiped her eyes. The mini-fairies were waddling over her lap in little feathery balls. They were adorable. A mini-fairy accidentally slid down her skirt. It squeaked. Wendy cupped the rainbow fairy in her palm – it cooed as she stroked.

Tooth winked proudly at her mini-fairy. "They're cute, huh?"

Wendy nodded.

"And they like you!" Tooth added. "Probably because you have nice teeth. Do you floss every night?"

Another nod. A teeny, tiny smile. The mini-fairies applauded Wendy. _They loved when people flossed!_

Tooth beamed. "You must be a fairy fan, right?"

Wrong.

No nod. Her smile fell. Wendy set the mini-fairy on her knee.

"Where did Pitch Black come from?"

Tooth leaned. Wendy had spoken too softly to hear.

"Say again?"

"Pitch Black." Wendy heaved a great sigh. Her breath rattled. "Where did he come from? Why is he inside my head? How – " a tear melted into her cheek. "How come he can control Peter's shadow?"

Tooth peered. "You really _don't_ know much about shadow working. Do you Wendy?"

"I…no." Wendy scraped an eye. "And I don't want to. I hate this. _I hate this_. I hate this – _this_ –" she glared repulsively at her needle and thread. She flipped her hands, glared at the skin –

"I wish they had just drowned me!" Wendy slapped her palms to the ground. Tooth blinked nervously as Wendy snarled at the cavern wall. "I wish Lana had just drowned me in the pool when she had the chance! I wish – "

"Shut up, no you don't." Jim slumped beside Wendy. He wrapped a heavy arm around her. "If you're going to cry, then cry. Whatever. But give me a fucking break with the death-wishes, kay?"

Wendy elbowed. "Language."

"Sorry."

"No you're not."

"Fine."

" _Fine_."

"You finished crying?"

"No."

"Okay, finish."

"You are so irritating…" Wendy sniveled, tears muffled against Jim's shoulder.

It was the strangest (and somehow sweetest) interaction Tooth had ever seen. It was strange because Wendy and Jim were so honest, and sweet because neither took offense. Their exchange was clairvoyant, as if they were rehearsing for a play.

"Are…" Tooth ventured. "Are you two together?"

Jim and Wendy looked affronted. And annoyed. Clearly this was an old, _exasperating_ question.

"No." Jim scowled, rubbing Wendy's arm. "Not if you mean _together_ together."

Tooth was unconvinced.

"But…" she revised, unabashed by Jim's glower. "You were at the house. Remember? You came for Wendy when Sandy saved her from the shadows. I mean…you two just fit…so perfectly."

Tooth looked at her mini-fairies for help. They hid behind her wings. Jim was a frightening human – he could probably pop them like rainbow colored peanuts.

But Jim did not attack. He didn't even disagree.

"Yeah." Wearily, Jim sagged against Wendy. "Story of our fucking lives."

Wendy pressed her forehead. It was true. Profanity and all.

Tooth excused herself. Jim's good humor was waning, and Bunny's was already gone. Sighing, Tooth gathered her mini-fairies, bade Wendy a cheerful( _ish_ ) goodbye, and reported to North's sleigh for damage control. Lots of Christmas cookie crumbs and shattered Easter eggshells. What a mess. Thank goodness _Halloween_ was the next holiday around the corner.

"Jesus." Jim spit nails. "I am _so_ sick of this. We are friends, god damn it. _Friends_. It's not _that hard_ to understand. But everyone's gotta have a fit about it. First Peter. Then Ariel. And now the _tooth fairy._ "

Jim shook his head. "We'd probably do everybody a favor by getting married."

"Uuugh." Wendy massaged away the image. She was too tired to be polite. "Don't even. Wendy Hawkins?"

"Jim Darling?"

Wendy cringed. "That sounds dreadful. We would have never survived."

"You think?"

"No. Not a day. That is, if you showed for the wedding."

"I'd show." Jim said.

Wendy gave a look. "Jim. Please."

"I'd show." Jim nudged. "Might not do the dumb dance thing. But I'd show."

"Lovely. Then what?"

"Then we'd probably have a kid."

"Yes, but no solar surfing in the house."

"Okay, then why are you teaching my son fine needle point?"

Wendy laughed. It was feeble, but still a laugh. Jim managed a smile - good. Step one.

"Goodness." Wendy tilted her wrist. Her magical needle glinted against the ocean's reflection, cast from a orbicular window high above the grotto. Jim's _"fine needle point"_ comment had redirected her concerns.

"Jim. I'm…" she bit her lip. "Jim, I'm sorry I didn't tell you about Peter. I… we were... it doesn't matter now but…"

Wendy trailed off. "Well….you know. I loved Peter. I wanted to marry him. We were going to name our children Gwendolyn and Peter Michaleen."

If Jim was surprised (he was) his expression didn't imply.

"Sorry I screwed things up." he replied.

"I'm sorry I did too."

"Don't be."

"I am."

" _Don't._ Just say thank you, and everything's fine."

"Thank you."

"No problem. And Wen-?"

"What?"

"Tooth is right. We'll figure this out. Peter is _going_ to be alright. And…" Jim gave a firm, compassionate squeeze. "For what it's worth – _I'm_ glad you didn't drown that day."

Wendy _actually_ smiled. The memory (however dreadful) _was_ heartwarming. She had fled the swimming pool after Jim saved her life, so she wasn't present for the _thrilling_ aftermath, but Ariel had verified that the rumors were true.

"You punched Lana." Wendy ran a dreary hand across her bow. "You punched a girl."

Jim clicked his tongue. "And it felt awesome."

"I'm sure it did."

The following silence was gloomy. Wendy exhausted herself with worry, and Jim exhausted himself with a brainstorm that just _wouldn't_ develop into a workable plan. None of his ideas satisfied everyone. None of his scenarios healed everyone's pain.

Finally, Jim surrendered.

"Wen, what kind of a dumb name is Michaleen?"

Wendy's spirits lifted. Just like that. Sitting a little taller and smiling a little brighter, she demanded to know if Jim had better alternatives.

"Better names? Well Not for your kids. But mine…" Jim's edges suddenly softened. Glancing at Ariel, he sighed. "Melody for a girl. Jon for a boy."

Wendy was charmed. "Melody?"

"Yeah."

"And…Jon?" Slowly Wendy guessed. "You mean…Jon…as in…?"

"Yeah." Jim gazed through the overhead window, beyond the ocean, and into the stars. "After Silver. Long John Silver. But just three letters…three letters like Jim."

He sighed. "Ariel's idea."

Wendy looked. Ariel was brooding lethally into her computer screen.

"Jim?" Wendy asked, remembered their quarrel. "What are you and Ariel fighting about?"

"Oh. You." Jim darkened. "Ariel thinks we're _together_ together – along with everybody else in the freaking world. She said I always put you first, that we – "

"Jim! You're – " Wendy almost shrieked. Lowering her voice, she hissed furiously instead. "You're fighting about me?"

"Yes. But – "

"Ariel is upset-" Wendy interrupted. "She thinks we're doing _heavens_ knows what, and you're _sitting here with me_?"

Jim paused. "And…you're welcome for making sure you're alright?"

Wendy seethed.

"Jim you – you – oh! _Ariel_!"

Wendy spun. "Ariel!" she called, hitting Jim with her bowler. "Ariel, Jim is an _idiot_! He's so ridiculous, come over here and – "

 _Crack._

Wendy didn't finish. She was interrupted by a sickening _crunch_ as Lana's mermaids frisked the overhead window, cracked the spherical glass, and a billion tons of ocean poured into the grotto.


	100. Chapter 100: Fish Out of Water

**Chapter 100: Fish Out of Water**

Ariel grabbed her trident – reached for Jim –

-and went black.

Yes. Black.

A billion tons of ocean? Pouring down? Water hard as rocks, like fists to the face?

They hadn't a chance in Hell.

Lucky, Pitch wanted them alive. And luckier, Ariel had transmitted a sonar distress signal across the ocean.

"Peeeeee-eeew!" Cordelia swept between Ariel and Jim. She pretended to vomit as their fingers slipped apart. "Yuuuuuck. Mermaid and the martian. Gross."

"Not gross as this freak." Adella plucked Tooth's plume. She sniffed the rainbow feather. "Ugly bird."

"Speaking of ugly birds." Maris and Limpet swam beneath North and Bunny. Wendy sagged between them, bowler drifting from her head as they pulled. "Look who we found – the ugliest little birdie of all! Lana, you remember our little dearie, don't you?"

They released. Wendy hung lifelessly as Lana curled around her, Ariel's trident in hand.

"Pitch said no drowning. Oh well." Lana seized a handful of Wendy's hair. "We'll just have a little fun instead."

Lana yanked. Wendy woke, recoiled painfully, and swallowed water in surprise. The mermaids giggled as she floundered between Ariel, Jim, the guardians, and the surface.

"She's so helpless. So, _so_ helpless without sexy best friend to save her this time." Lana flipped the trident into Wendy's jaw. Blood spurted as Wendy rapped her tongue.

Lana grinned. The meaty smell of blood was exciting as Wendy's vulnerability. The desire to finish what she started six years ago was overwhelming.

"Girls, take _dear_ cousin Ariel and her boy-toy to Pitch. Bring the ugly fairytale creatures with you." Lana locked an arm about Wendy's throat. "Tell Pitch we're sorry...but the shadow worker drowned. Okie dokie?"

The mermaids laughed.

Lana jiggled her elbow under Wendy's chin. "Doesn't that sound like fun, dearie? We're going to see what your insides look like! Weeeee! Say bye-bye, dearie! Say bye-bye!"

"Bye-bye!" Cordelia flapped Jim's hand. Adella mimicked with Ariel's as the mermaids rose to the surface. "Bye-bye, shadow worker! Bye-b - _eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee_!"

A sea creature armada burst from the darkness. Flounder held the lead, Gil brought the rear, and a squadron of sharks, fish, rays, and whales filled in-between. Responding to Ariel's distress call, they attacked the mermaids. It was raw and ravenous as an open sushi bar.

And just about as hectic. The fish, so accustomed to Ariel's aquapathic powers, forgot that _real_ humans couldn't breathe underwater. By the time Marlin and Gil aroused Ariel, her companions were suffocating.

Jim kicked, mermaid fins tangled in his legs. Aquamarine flashes obscured Wendy from view. North, Bunny, and Tooth paddled feebly through the mire.

Ariel redirected the fish as best she could. But the water was turbulent, and without her trident Ariel could not communicate. Lana had disappeared with Wendy, and Crush had whisked Jim into the WFC. Ariel was uncharacteristically disoriented. Situations were changing too quickly, the ocean was churning like an upset stomach...

The only certain rescue Ariel could make in _that_ moment, was saving the Otherland guardians. So she did. Vowing to find Wendy and praying that Crush would keep Jim safe, Ariel dragged Tooth towards the surface. Flounder noticed her struggle, and swam his little fishy tail to help. A wave of assistance followed, and the guardians were dumped onto the surf.

Captain Hook was waiting.

"Like a fish out of water. My dear you make it too easy."

Captain Hook raised a pistol to Ariel's forehead. Ariel scampered backwards in the sand, water dripping between her eyes and Tooth stumbling under her arm as Captain Hook advanced with his army. North unsheathed his sabres, and Bunny unbuttoned his boomerangs, but they were trapped between Hook and the mermaids – between the devil and the deep blue sea.

"I'd ask for your _last words_ Miss Triton, but I'm afraid that would be bad form. So..."

Captain Hook clicked the trigger. "I'll pretend to hear you scream instead."

The shot fired, but never hit. Captain Hook's bullet skittered harmlessly in the sand as Bunny tapped his foot, and the beach emptied into the rabbit hole beneath them. The guardians dropped, escaping with Ariel into Bunny's underground tunnels – the tunnels where _hordes_ of injured Fantasians were hiding.

"Blasted." Captain Hook shot the pink flower that had sprouted over Bunny's rabbit hole. Petals burst under the explosion. "Blast that little mermaid. _Blasted_! Even without her trident, _Lady_ Siren is the lethal guardian. Of the four, she is the warrior. If she reaches her father...if she and Triton devise and plot..."

Captain Hook signaled. The undead army followed, Gaston, Facilier, and Scar to Hook's left, back, and right. They could almost hear the Fantasians planning a rebelling underground – Ariel at the epicenter.

"Gaston, tell Drago I want every dragon digging beneath the earth! I don't care if every last Viking is buried alive, Ariel Triton must be captured. She is dangerous – kill her on sight, Pitch does not _need_ her alive. He also does not _need_ Peter Pan..."

Captain Hook fingered his scythe. "Tis only Hawkins and Darling that Pitch _requires_ alive. I don't _care_ if he would enjoy casting the rest into the Black Cauldron. It is dangerous to keep unessential enemies alive. So kill all who are unnecessary – Triton and Pendragon included. Hawkins and Darling are the only guardians to keep alive. Well..."

Captain Hook revised. "For now."

* * *

 **... ... ... .. ... ... ... ... ... .. ... .. ... .. .. ... ... ... ...**

* * *

Lana's mermaid tail dissolved. Her scales melted into aquamarine leggings and six-inch stiletto heels. Feet sinking through the sand, she pressed Ariel's trident across Wendy's chest. Wendy thrashed, but Lana pushed, pinning her against the beach.

Lana was pissed. To put it mildly. Three of Ariel's sharks (Bruce, Anchor, and Chum) had chased her to the surface. Lana _preferred_ to kill underwater – less of a mess, water diffused the blood and guts.

Moreover, Ariel's trident would not respond to Lana's commands. The thing was dead. Useless as a baby rattle. So disappointing. Lana would have _loved_ to drown Wendy. The poetic justice would have been perfect. But, death by trident would have been fun too.

Sigh. Lana was just going to have to get her hands dirty – pity. She just did her nails.

"Oh dearie. Stop fighting. You're so pathetic – pathetic little poo."

Lana clawed Wendy's neck, scratching the fragile skin. "I'm going to open you up like a lobster and eat everything inside. _Ooooo_! _Tee hee_! I wish Peter were here, don't you?" Lana scratched harder. "I hear Peter's been trying to get inside you, lately. Desperate. Must be because I was gone. Poor dear. But I guess Peter's not missing much, is he?"

Wendy scrambled. The trident teetered over her hips. "Get off! Get off you vile –"

"Say please."

" _Get off_ me!"

"Is that what you say to Peter?"

"I swear I'll – "

"You'll what? It's night! There's no moon! So no shadow for you to steal, dearie! Just you – and me – your blood – and guts –"

Lana angled the trident under Wendy's corset. She shoved. Wendy screamed as the sky blue fabric seeped red at her navel.

"Stop it! Stop it!"

Lana jabbed. "Oh so it's _that_ what you say to Peter! Or does he say it to you?"

Wendy rolled. Lana climbed over her as she tried to wriggle away. Thumping down, she ground Wendy's into the ground.

"Poor dearie. Can I have your bow when you're dead? You know – "

Lana scooped sand. Delightedly she shoveled it into Wendy's mouth and smeared it into her eyes. "You know so we can string your head over Peter's bedroom door? Virgins and prudes this way – ugly girls in skirts –"

Wendy extracted her needle and stabbed. The needle sunk into Lana's thigh. It was a blind swipe and a harmless puncture without a shadow, but she drew blood.

Lana reeled. Wendy ran. She grabbed for Ariel's trident in passing, but sprinted to the ocean cliffs as Lana shrieked. Stomach bleeding into her corset, Wendy stumbled over salty rocks. She ran instinctively and unthinkingly, without any purpose other than _escape_.

Two orange flashes blurred behind her. Heart bolting into her mouth, Wendy swung her needle as Merida ducked and Robin snatched her wrist.

"Robin! Meri – "

"No time to talk!" Robin yanked Wendy across the cliff. Merida darted ahead. Robin prepared two arrows, one dancing on his bowstring and one clamped between his teeth. "Vikings, sharp left! They don't have their dragons but they're onto our scent – "

"Robin!" Merida skid. She whipped under a boulder as axes, spears, hammers, and arrows rained down. "Get down! Take cover –!"

Robin switched directions so swiftly, Wendy tripped. An axe grazed her shoulder as she tumbled down the craggy slope. Rocks shred her skirt to streamers as she landed with a _wump_.

Dazed, Wendy stumbled into two Vikings – both with long blonde hair and gruesome smirks. Robin and Merida shouted distantly for her to run, but Wendy was cornered.

More appropriately, Wendy was _sandwiched_.

"Whoa! Ruff! Check it I – " Tuffnutt thrust Wendy at his sister. "I think we caught one!"

"Dude!" Ruffnutt cheered, propelling Wendy back at Tuffnutt. "Yahs! Oh wait...was this protocol? I mean Astrid..."

"Oh yeah." Tuffnutt scooped Wendy's arms. "Astrid wanted us to snoop. Didn't say nothing about abducting and torturing Fantasians while she _kills_ Hiccup."

Ruffnutt gathered Wendy's legs. "I thought she said _comfort_ Hiccup?"

"Eh. ToMAYto, toMAHto." Tuffnutt hiked, giving Wendy's chest a liberal squeeze. "Right Fantasian?"

"Oi! Ruffnutt! Tuffnutt!"

Spitelout, Bucket, and Gobber waved from the cliff's peak. "We've got the other two! It's them sneaky Fantasian archers that Stoick captured, Thor rest his soul! Both of yous come up so we can bring them to Drago! He'll want them imprisoned for King Ruber's hanging."

"Ooooooo. Yeaaaaaaaaahhhh. Bout that..." Ruffnutt and Tuffnutt exchanged glances. They weren't worried about disobeying Astrid (in fact they enjoyed breaking rules, especially Astrid's), but the hanging thing? Not really their cup of tea. Or their tankard of yak nog.

Decisions. Ethical dilemmas. Ruffnutt and Tuffnutt gagged.

"We better wait for Astrid and Hiccup!" Ruffnutt swung Wendy in the general direction of Chief Stoick's morgue. His cremation ceremony would be honored later in Berk. "Ya know! Dragon master Hiccup knows all!"

"His portrait is above my bed." Tuffnutt added.

"Gross." said Ruffnutt.

"Hey we share the same room."

"Speaking of gross."

"Until Drago releases our dragons from the spell – " Gobber clamped his good hand over Merida's mouth. "Then we follow his orders. _Unfortunately_. But it's what we gotta do – please Drago or he'll hurt our dragons. So come on twins! Bring the Fantasian. Up, up, up."

Ruffnutt and Tuffnutt complied. They really didn't have a choice, with the added benefit of (1) disobeying Astrid and (2) brown-nosing to Drago for their dragon's benefit. If Drago stayed happy, their dragons were safe (even if they were mesmerized).

Merrily, Ruffnutt and Tuffnutt hoisted Wendy over the cliffs, into King Ruber's stronghold, and presented her (along with Merida and Robin) to the tyrant.

"Who is he?" Wendy breathed as Ruber approached. Stomach throbbing, she nevertheless searched for shadows as torches were lit. "What did they mean King Rub -?"

"Head _down_ Wendy." Robin hissed as Ruber tapped each victim with the tip of his sword. "Don't look up, just keep your head – "

"Oh dearest me."

Captain Hook entered, accompanied by Drago and Hiccup. Hiccup looked worn (especially without Toothless), but he hardened with recognition as Captain Hook cupped Wendy's chin.

"Well. My, my. King Ruber, I think these young Vikings should be congratulated."

"Why?" Ruber demanded. Ruffnutt and Tuffnutt looked similarly astounded as Ruber shouldered alongside Captain Hook. "Why? Who is she?"

Captain Hook traced Wendy's cheek. "Should I tell them?" he whispered, angling his hook. "Or should you?"

Wendy lunged for his shadow. Captain Hook hurled his iron hook against her temple, knocking her out. Wendy dropped, forehead already bruised.

"Tie her up!" Captain Hook commanded. "Cover her hands! Bag over her head! The other two can hang, but this girl stays alive! But whatever you miserable scrogs do – _do not_ let her hands free!"

"Why?" Ruber pummeled his sword. The blade chipped impatiently as he whined. "Who is this girl? Why cover her hands? If she's so mysterious," Ruber spit at Merida and Robin as they cursed. "Then why keep her alive?"

Captain Hook tilted Wendy's head with his boot. Calmly supervising her bondage, he waited a delicate moment before answering.

"Because this girl is Pitch's shadow worker. Because this girl will help Pitch restore the Black Cauldron. Because this girl," Captain Hook snarled. "Is Wendy Darling."

Hiccup blinked.

"Her...her name is... _Wendy_?"

"Indeed." Captain Hook answered. Distractedly, he followed Wendy's departure. "Now. All we need is Jim Hawkins."

* * *

 **... ... ... .. ... ... ... ... ... .. ... .. ... .. .. ... ... ... ...**

* * *

"Surfs up dude!"

Sea turtles scattered. The Western Fantasian Current curved upwards like an inverted waterfall, spitting it's riders to the surface. Crush sailed languidly under Jim as he broke the water, gasping for air.

"Man overboard!"

A red and white naval cutter appeared over Jim's shoulder. He twisted as Crush supported him undertow. Both swerved to avoid the ship's triangular iron nose. Jim read the ship's insignia as it chugged by – _FFCCGC Leviathan_.

 _FFCCGC:_ A prefix meaning _Fantasian First Class Coast Guard Cutter._

 _Leviathan_ : Eric's ship.

"Shit." Jim growled, swimming for the vessel.

Crush nodded, eyes rolling lethargically inside his head. "Totally."

The _FFCCGC Leviathan_ bore through the waves as if they were puddles. After a second cry ("Man overboard!") Jim was muscled aboard. It was a flawless, organized rescue. Like clockwork.

"Hawkins?" Eric scanned the water. Spray frosted his black hair as he searched. "Where's Ariel?"

Jim staggered from John Smith. Grinding his teeth to keep from shivering, he joined Eric at the rail.

"I don't know. We were attacked. Didn't she -?" Jim leaned across the bulwark. He combed the water once before deducing the rest.

"She's not here."

"What?"

"Ariel's not here." Jim indicated the disappearing sea turtles. "They would protect her if she was. Ariel's – she's – "

Jim swallowed, but a painful lump formed inside his throat. "She's not here."

The ocean seethed, blues mixing with greys and greens. Jim stared. Without Ariel, without knowing if she was safe, he felt completely torn. Like half of whole.

Morph cooed. Rubbing the pink critter inside his pocket, Jim turned to Eric.

"We have to go back. Fantasia's in trouble. Captain Hook attacked with the Vikings, and some shadow worker monster named Pitch Black is controlling Peter. I don't know how Captain Hook is still alive, but the entire kingdom is gone. King Arthur is lost – we have to find him."

Jim strode firmly to the helm. "Turn the ship around. If we can find Ariel – "

Five sailors intercepted. Unprepared for the confrontation and weakened from his underwater journey, Jim was quickly seized.

"You are not captain of this ship." Eric regarded Jim with cold, condescending eyes. "That is my luxury, I give the commands. Admiral Triton cast me from the mainland with instructions to hunt pirates, and that is what I intend to do."

"You're – what?" Jim bucked, trying to throw his captors. "Are you crazy? Fantasia is burning! People are dying! This ship is fully armed, and if we could regroup with Ariel and Wendy then Fantasia might stand a chance!"

"Eric, he's right." John Smith agreed. "If King Arthur has been attacked – "

"We continue on course. That is an order." Eric smoothed his hands. "Captain Smith, escort _Lord_ Hawkins below. The brig should be nicely accommodated for our _esteemed_ guardian."

"You idiot! You fucking – " Jim dug his heels, trying to stall his imprisonment. "Eric take the stick out of your ass and turn the ship around! What the Hell is more important than saving Fantasia? Saving Ariel? Saving – "

"The pirate ship that we are tracking! The pirate ship that fled Fantasia before it was attacked!"

Eric wrenched, forcing Jim's gaze to a distant, northward bound vessel. "See that ship? That dark spot on the horizon?"

Eric shoved Jim below. "That is _The Princess_!"


	101. Chapter 101: The Princess

**Chapter 101: The Princess**

"HUZZAH!"

"WE'RE ALIVE!"

"HOORAY FOR CAPTAIN SINBAD!"

"WE'RE ALIVE!"

"WE RECLAIMED THE SHIP!"

"WE'RE _ALIVE_!"

"THE PRINCESS IS OURS!"

"WE'RE _ALIVE_!"

"ARRIBA!"

"WE'RE _ALIVE_!"

"YO HO HO AND A BOTTLE OF – "

"Hey numbskulls!" Sinbad poked from his quarterdeck cabin. "Put a sock in it! My wife is sleeping! The next _yo ho ho_ I hear is gonna walk the plank! Savvy, savvy?"

The celebration died. Sort of. At least, it dampened. Dimitri tucked the vodka in his pants, Eret hid the whiskey, and Miguel removed his sombrero. "Sorry Capn. No offense to the misses."

"Offense _taken_." Sinbad swicked his scimitar across the decorations (streamers, balloons, and a pineapple piñata). "And can we _please_ lose the party favors? God would it kill you guys to butch up for once? Or have you forgotten that this is a pirate ship and we are trying to make a dishonest living here? Remember my two favorite words – "

Sinbad slashed. The piñata crashed. Chocolate and gummy worms splurged out.

"— _hard core_! We gotta be hard core! And you're not hard core unless you live hard core! Savvy? Okay everybody shut up!"

Sinbad disappeared. He reappeared, snatched a _Twix_ bar and disappeared again, grumbling about a "freaking pirate's life for me."

The ship sailed. The candy rolled. The crew stared. Then—

"He seems upset." Miguel concluded.

Marina stalked by. "Of course Sinbad's upset. You saw his ' _wife_.'" Marina tossed Miguel a mop. As he caught it with a twirl, she crustily added. "The slut."

"Oh I saw her indeed!" Miguel danced with the mop. The crew chuckled as he began sweeping the spilled candy to a Latin beat. " _Well done_ Sinbad tis all I have to say! The rest – "

"The rest you leave to imagination." Tulio warned. Dutifully, he began untying streamers from the shrouds. "Sinbad's in a mood. He's probably still mad about Ruber's quote on quote mutiny."

"Understandable. I can sympathize. Ooo Tulio, you want a _Kit Kat_?"

"Nah throw me a _Snickers_."

"It's hilarious in my opinion." Dimitri guzzled the Vodka. He shuddered, then licked his lips. "Sinbad a family man. Can't believe he's legitimately married!"

"I can't believe someone actually married _him_!" Eret laughed. " _And_ that they had a kid. Ha, get this – Papa Sinbad."

"Oh yeah that's right. Pitch said he had a kid, right?"

"Right. A son."

"Heh. Kid was probably a mistake."

"Yesssss." Eret rubbed his tattooed chin. "Didn't…didn't Pitch say that Sinbad…killed him? Killed his son?"

The joviality depressed. Miguel stopped dancing.

Marina scoffed. "No he didn't."

"Huh?"

"You simpletons give Sinbad too much credit." Marina swigged the whiskey. Brassily, she rest the bottle on her hip.

"Sinbad didn't kill his son. Oh he ditched the brat, and his bitch. But he didn't have the guts to kill. Coward – " Marina muttered, returning to the bottle. "Sinbad was too chicken to face Captain Hook, _and_ too chicken to face his pathetic family."

She glanced seaward. "And now he's gotten us in hot water again."

Tulio's nerves fluttered. "What do you mean? Hot water? What hot water?"

Merida jerked. Heads followed her cue. "There's a naval ship trailing us."

* * *

 **... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ...**

* * *

Sinbad downed the candy bar. One gulp. He was so aggravated, he almost ate the wrapper.

"God damn it – " Crumpling the wrapper, Sinbad stormed into his cabin. Remembering that Sarah was sleeping, he stormed on tiptoes. Not much of an improvement, but as the saying goes: it's the thought that counts.

Sinbad sunk beside the bed. Cross went his arms and crisscross went his legs. He was livid and he wasn't really sure at whom.

There were the usual suspects (his crew) but other offenders as well:

(1) Admiral Triton – _way to be in the wrong place at the wrong time grandpa_.

(2,3,4) Pitch, Ruber, and Captain Hook - _holy hell. Holy hell that bloodbath was excessive! And gross._

(5) Weird Fantasian spacer dude – _who the heck was that creep?!_

(6) Sarah –

Sarah.

Sinbad gazed at his wife.

Sarah had lain unconscious since the escape. Her breathing was slow and heavy. Her hair was spread like spider silk across the pillow. And her lavender dress (Sinbad 164% approved of the new color) was extremely tantalizing.

Sinbad had _considered_ slipping Sarah into something "more comfortable" (as only a _gentleman_ would) but Marina hadn't been willing to share her clothes. _Puh. Women – weird._

Impatiently, Sinbad shifted. He _hated_ waiting. He hated the ambiguity of the situation. What would Sarah say? What would she do? Their brief reunion at King Arthur's castle had not been promising. Sinbad _doubted_ Sarah would be up for necking.

Sinbad sighed. He'd just have to wait for Sarah to wake. Then they could kiss – make up – make _out_ – and Sinbad might _even_ let Sarah apologize for her annoying (albeit adorable) "daughter."

 _Daughter._ Sinbad nibbled his wedding ring. With his other hand, he fingered the enchanted seashell necklace. The golden trinkets glimmered as he glared at Sarah _._ _So she remarried huh? At least, she bred some dude's daughter. Daughter. Little blue eyed whippersnapper. What was that kid's name anyway? Scrimpy?_ Eh didn't matter – she probably died with the rest of Fantasia.

Along with Jim.

Sinbad paused. His anger melted. The seashell pendant swung against his chest. Head bowed, Sinbad sighed into his wedding ring.

"Sorry little guy." he murmured, forehead rolling over his ring. Again he sighed, smiling sadly at a thousand adorable memories. Baby birthdays. Rubber duckies in the tub. Toy ligthsabers. Secret projects in the beat-up garage. Solar surfer flights.

"Sorry." Sinbad clasped his hands, almost in prayer. "For everything."

"Sinbad?"

Sinbad jolted. His head almost flew off his shoulders.

"Sarah?"

She was awake. She was looking at him.

She was beautiful.

" _Sarah_! Sarah you're - you're – "

His longings got the better of him. Without hesitation, Sinbad rose, climbed onto the bed, leaned over his wife -

 _SLAP!_

"Ow!" Sinbad doubled back. Cheek stinging where Sarah had slapped, he tried to remain reasonable.

"Okay." Sinbad cracked his neck. "Okay I deserved that – "

 _SLAP!_

"Deserved that one too – "

 _SLAP!_

"Grrrraaarrrragh _that_ one I'm not so sure – "

 _SLAP! SLAP! SLA –_

"Jesus Sarah!" Sinbad caught her wrist. "Enough with the freaking – "

Sarah jerked her knee.

Sinbad's scream rattled across an alternate universe.

"AH!" he dropped, hands clenched between his legs. Voice several octaves higher, he growled. "THAT was uncalled for!"

Sarah advanced. "You SCUM!"

"Sarah!"

"You PIG!"

"Listen!"

Sarah grabbed the hilt of his scimitar and pulled, trying to yank it free. "You filthy, evil, unfaithful – "

" _Unfaithful_? ME?" Sinbad stood, breaking Sarah from his scimitar. "You're the one that remarried!"

"Remarried?" Electricity glittered inside Sarah's teal eyes. "What are you talking about?"

"I met your _daughter_!" Sinbad mimed. "Short, skinny, stuffy accent, irritating conviction – her name escapes me!"

"Wendy!"

"I _prefer_ spawn of adultery!"

Sinbad grazed a finger across Sarah's bust. "So what'd you do? Marry the first sucker that puttered along? Was it a white wedding, Sarah? Whistles and bells? Baby in the basket? Did Jim _ask_ for a sister, or was Scrimpy just _payback_ for him being my son?"

"She's adopted!" Sarah roared. "Wendy is adopted! Do you remember Mary? Mary Darling? Mary was killed by Captain Hook _after_ you let him into Fantasia! Wendy is MARY'S daughter! She is adopted!"

Sinbad staggered. He was overblown.

"Well – if she's Mary's –then—that – that - that _explains_ the irritating conviction!" Sinbad fumbled, searching for an argument. "But why you go adopting people without my say so, woman?"

"How _dare_ you!"

"Mary had a husband! What was it, Elmer?"

"George!"

"Same difference! What happened to him?"

"Hook killed George too!" Sarah furiously wiped her mouth. "Hook killed George _and_ Mary Darling! I told you Sinbad! I told you to report Captain Hook to Admiral Triton but you _didn't_ and look what's it's caused – "

"HEEEEERRRRRRRRRE we go!" Sinbad opened his left palm. He shoved the red scar in Sarah's face. "Same old argument! Sarah _I – am – a – branded – pirate_! I owed Hook allegiance! He can sense the scar! It's his calling card – "

"I am not falling for _that_ argument again! You don't _owe_ Hook anything! You are your _own_ person, you make your own decisions – "

"Well Hook found me again!" Sinbad spread his hands. The seashell necklace dangled as he yelled. "Hook came back from the _dead_ and appeared right beneath my ship! And big surprise – he wanted me to kill more people !"

"Well maybe –" Sarah retorted. "You should have _run away_. You're _good_ at that!"

Sinbad's anger was suffocating. "You still don't _get_ it do you _princess_?"

Sarah glowered. Her reply was so bitter it stung. "Oh I _got_ it, Sinbad. I _got_ it a long time ago. You _left_. You left me. You left Jim. You left us alone. You left us defenseless. You left us with a thousand unanswered questions, except one: you didn't love us. You didn't care. You left us Sinbad. You _left_."

Sinbad's expression hardened with Sarah's every accusation. By the time Sarah was through, he was stone.

"They wanted me to kill Jim."

Sarah frowned, startled. "What?"

"Hook. Maleficent. When I let them into Fantasia, they wanted me to kill Jim. So…" Sinbad sharpened his words. "I _left_. I _left_ so Hook would think I was running from the law. I _left_ so they would follow. I _left_ so they would believe I had murdered my son."

Sarah stared. Her eyes welled, but she did not let the tears fall. "You expect me to believe _that_? Why would they want you to kill Jim? He was only eleven years old."

"Jim was born on December twenty-first." Sinbad softened. "They were after kids born on the first of the season. That's all I know."

Sarah flickered with recognition. "Four seasons turn, all are...cursed. Find the one born on the…" she stopped. Suddenly she grabbed a tear before it fell. "Where are we? Where am I? Where is Jim?"

The knots in Sinbad's stomach twisted all the way to his heart.

"Sarah. I think he's dead."

He explained. She listened.

Then she told him to go.

"Get out." Sarah backed to a corner, snarling like a trapped animal. Sinbad reached but she pushed him away. "Don't touch me! You left once – now you've left again – and Jim – " she choked, tears staining her lavender dress. " _Get out_."

Sinbad surrendered. There was no use fighting. Sarah killed him with his own guilt. But before leaving, Sinbad paused for a final defense.

"Your name," he said, speaking to the door. "Means princess."

He listened to Sarah cry. There was nothing he could do to comfort her. But locking the door, Sinbad departed with a small token of love.

"I named this ship after you."

It was dismally that Sinbad ascended to the main deck. His reunion with Sarah was not what he had expected, and certainly much worse than he'd hoped. Although they were _finally_ together, Sinbad felt like a stranger. Their family was – well. _Laughable_ was a kind descriptor. _Shattered_ was more appropriate. And _over_ was spot on.

Sinbad strode numbly against the wind. He'd never felt so…lost. It was frightening, it was lonely. Like a ship without an anchor.

Thank _god_ Tulio had a panic attack. Thank _god_ Marina spotted a Fantasian naval vessel hot on their tails.

A hunt? A chase? A near death experience?

The perfect distractor.

"Ah. It's one of Triton's." Sinbad drummed the bulwark. He glanced northward at an approaching snowstorm. He returned thoughtfully to the Fantasian warship and smiled.

"My two favorite words…" Sinbad spun the helm. Sails lurched over his head as the wind howled. "About face."

"Oh brother." Tulio hustled after Miguel. Together they leapt into the shrouds. "Here we go again."

Marina cursed under her breath. As Sinbad's crew prepared to capture the Fantasian vessel, she drained the remaining whiskey. Scribbling a quick note and stuffing it inside, she tossed the message-in-a-bottle overboard.

The bottle bobbed. Then it disappeared underwater with the flick of an aquamarine tail.

* * *

...

 **sultal's note: Yes, the name Sarah really does mean "princess."**


	102. Chapter 102: Artie and Shrek

**Chapter 102: Artie and Shrek**

"Hot chocolate-!" Donkey sang in Arthur's ear. "—with marshmallows, and cinnamon swirls!"

Arthur woke.

He thought he was dreaming.

Actually, Arthur thought he was caught between a dream and a _really_ painful nightmare. _Nothing_ made sense. Everything was weird. And his chest was _freezing_. The original cold, clammy feeling had sunk deep inside his core. His ribs felt prickly. His heart felt like a snowball. Arthur was too cold to think of anything but the pain.

Almost.

"Hot cocoa in the morning!" Donkey nuzzled a beer stein over the bed. "And what a BEEEEEEEE-U-TIFUL morning it is!"

Still dazed, Arthur let the stein fall into his hands. His fingers were frosty and he had difficulty gripping the handle, but the heat felt _incredible_. He was _dying_ to drink the warmth.

Ignoring the talking donkey (who was _still_ talking), Arthur brought the stein greedily to his lips.

Then he saw the "hot chocolate." The color was correct, but the liquid was goopy – like mud. And instead of "marshmallows with cinnamon swirls," there were three eyeballs. The eyeballs were floating in the goop. One was looking at him.

"Wha-?"

"Donkey! That's Shrek's coffee!" A thickset female ogre with red hair and green skin exchanged the stein for a wooden mug – this time filled with hot chocolate. As she turned, Arthur noticed a tiny crown peaked at the top of her red braid.

"Caffeine and corneas." The female ogre waded through three ogre toddlers. The triplets observed Arthur curiously as their mother passed. "Only way to clear a headache. Donkey! Donkey keep away from him until the ferngullians come! He might be cursed –"

As an afterthought, the female ogre gathered her children. "—we don't want anyone to catch it."

"Oh! _Right_! Sorry Fiona! Hippity hop!" Donkey smiled toothily at Arthur. "Gotsa go! Please excuuuuuuuusssse me – "

He bowed. "—your _majesty_!"

"Oh what a load of – " A male ogre hauled Donkey by the ears. Arthur was a little fuzzy, but he recognized the ogre's accent and (oddly enough) his plaid britches. It was the ogre that had yelled _'What are you doing in my swamp?!'_ when the fairy-elf-things had tried to save him.

 _Well,_ Arthur struggled to remember, _At least one of the fairy-elf-things had tried to save him. What was her name? Crystie? Crystal?_ _Crysta – yes it was Crysta! That's right. Crysta was the nice fairy-elf thing. Pips was the unfriendly one._

Unfriendly as the ogre.

"Fergus! Farkle! Felcia!" The ogre shooed the triplets. The triplets giggled as their father boiled. "Listen to your mother! Get in your cribs! Donkey, park your hide in the corner you jack a—"

The ogre stopped. He glared at Arthur. "What are you staring at?"

Arthur was slacked jawed. He was very bewildered, so he said something stupid.

"You're green."

The ogre gnashed his teeth. " _What_?"

Arthur realized what he'd just said.

"I – didn't mean- " Arthur recoiled into his pillow as the ogre stomped bedside. It was terrifying – even the his shadow was swarthy. "Oh boy."

"Oh boy is right." The ogre leaned. Arthur found himself nose to nose with a fat, grumpy glower. "I'm going to ' _oh boy'_ the jelly out of your eyes."

"Okaaay! _Shrek!_ _Honey_. Quit with the ogre talk." Fiona (apparently she was Shrek's wife) hefted their daughter. "Don't freak. Just step away from the boy and wait for the ferngullians to come back so we can figure this out."

"Oh I've figured it out Fiona." Shrek pointed. Arthur looked cross-eyed at the finger Shrek pressed against his nose. "I'm green, he's blue, I'm cranky, he's rude."

"You also just rhymed." Fiona grumbled.

"Yay!" Donkey cheered. He _loved_ poems! "Rhyming! Singing! Dancing with the king!"

" _King_?" Shrek laughed. Arthur cowered. For some reason Shrek was ten times uglier when he smiled.

"Donkey don't fall for that! He's not a king!"

Now Arthur was not vain. But he _was_ a little indignant.

"I – I am." Arthur pushed the blankets. Angry sparks rekindled inside his cold heart as he climbed from bed. "I'm King Arthur, lord of Fantasia. My people were attacked by Vikings – shadows – Maleficent – Captain Hook. I have to get back. I have to get back to Fanta –"

A green hand smushed his face.

"Settle your royal highness, Artie."

Shrek shoved Arthur. Hot chocolate spilled. The mattress creaked. The bed almost broke. "The only kingdom you rule is _dreamland_. Oh aye, it's a magical place with rainbow ponies and giant butterflies – "

"What you -? I— "Arthur wrestled Shrek's hand. Each finger was the size of a sausage. "But I _am_ king! I'm King Arthur! Fantasia was attacked, Chief Stoick was killed, my magical sword Excalibur is lost, and my people – "

"Yes." Condescendingly, Shrek patted Arthur's cheek. "And tomorrow we're all going to have a garden party in your honor. But for now, it's time for beddy-bye."

Arthur fumed. "But I'm king!"

"We heard."

"I rule Fantasia!"

"Of course you do."

Arthur blurted a royal quid-pro-quo that was his privilege, but he rarely employed.

"I _command_ you to stop _patronizing_ me so I can get out of this swamp and save Fantasia!"

Again, Shrek laughed. "Well I see a couple problems with that. First, this is the Otherland. As ' _king'_ of Fantasia— "

Shrek made air quotes. "You have no power. Second, didn't you see the signs? _Beware of Ogres? Stay out? Leave all hope behind_? This is _my_ swamp. _You_ are trespassing on _my_ kingdom. So to speak."

Shrek licked his lips. "And I'm a mean, hungry ogre with four mouths to feed."

"Five!" Donkey corrected. "Six including my baby doll!"

The house rumbled. A dragon with cranberry colored scales blew Donkey a kiss through the window.

Okay. The donkey was dating a dragon.

Great.

"I didn't trespass on purpose." Arthur drew the hot chocolate to his chest. It was an unconscious movement, but his body immediately absorbed the warmth. "I just appeared here."

"Ohhhhh! You just appeared here, did ye? Stepped over the squatters and stumbled upon my swamp?" Shrek winked at Fiona. "Never heard that version before, ayy Fiona? Artie _appeared_ , just like every other self-proclaimed ruler that tries to invade."

"I'm not invading!" Arthur smacked the blankets. "I just landed here! It was some sort of magic. You think I _want_ to be stuck in this swamp?"

"Believe me kid. I want you out too."

"So let me out!"

"No can do."

"Why not?"

"Well if I'm going to grind your bones to make my bread..."

" _What_?"

"Okay both of you! Shut up!" Fiona karate-chopped her way between Arthur and Shrek. "Shrek, be quiet and drink your coffee! Artie, be quiet and drink your hot chocolate! Kids, you go play with Gingy and Big Bad Wolf. And Donkey?"

"Yeah?!"

"Stop groveling, it's getting on my nerves! Artie is a sick, confused little boy – " Fiona fluffed an extra-large quilt under Arthur's chin. "-not a king."

Arthur felt his inner teenager surfacing.

" _Yes I am a king!_ I've been king for six years, ever since I pulled the sword from the – _little_ _boy_?" Arthur squirmed as Fiona tucked the quilt. To make matters worse, she held the hot chocolate to his mouth like a bottle.

"Okay wait!" Arthur pushed the mug. "I'm nineteen years old, not a little – "

"Drink."

Fiona poured. Reactively Arthur drank.

" _Mmm_."

By then the hot chocolate was lukewarm – but it was pure sunshine compared to his cold heart. Wrapping both hands around the mug, Arthur gulped.

Fiona was smug. "Good?" she asked.

Arthur nodded. He tipped the mug, savoring the last warm drops. "Mmmhmm."

Shrek rolled his eyes. Then he rolled the eyes in his coffee. "Kiss arse."

"Shrek!" Donkey hissed. "Shrek that's no way to behave in front of royalty!"

"Oh for the love of - he's not a king!" Shrek slammed his coffee. An eyeball jumped out. "He's just a crack pot like all the rest of them!"

"Shrek." Fiona reproved.

"No Fiona, you know it's true! There's a new tyrant every week! Last month it was ' _Queen'_ Uberta. Two weeks ago it was ' _King'_ Haggard. Yesterday it was ' _Lord'_ Farquad. Today it's ' _King'_ Artie—"

"My name is Arthur!"

"—and his magical sword Excalibur! Ha! Well just another pea in the pod, if you ask me. There is one true king of the Otherland." Shrek pretended to slice his throat. "And rumor has it, he's dead."

For some reason Shrek's final comment stoned Arthur to silence. Quietly, Arthur reflected. Chief Stoick had asked if he killed the Otherland's king.

Suddenly, Arthur was sad. It was bizarre. Although they'd never met, Arthur was _sad_ The King had died. Sad and...hopeful?

 _Hopeful? Well that didn't make sense._ The King couldn't come back to life. The Otherland was orphaned, and Arthur _certainly_ didn't want to surrogate. Especially if he'd be governing subjects like Shrek. _No thanks. Solid pass. The Otherland was a mess. It was hard enough ruling Fantasia._

Speaking of which...

"Listen." Arthur said. "Please. I _need_ to get to Fantasia. It doesn't matter if you believe me or not. That's not important. My peopl—I mean, the Fantasians are in trouble. They're hurt. I have to get back to help-"

"The Fantasians are more than hurt, señor."

Shrek's wooden door opened. An orange tabby cat with aquamarine eyes, Spanish accent, fencing sword, and _gorgeous_ leather boots paraded inside. His name was Puss: Puss in Boots. A company of ferngullians (Crysta in the lead) swooshed behind him.

"What?" Arthur beseeched Puss as Crysta flew overhead. "What do you mean the Fantasians are more than hur – "

"Here he is Magi!"

Crysta zipped to Arthur. Excitedly, she presented him to Magi – an ancient ferngullian clad entirely in pink. "See? _See_? This is the the human I told you about, the human Pips and I found, the human with the cold heart! Tell her Pips!"

Pips sulked in the doorway. He looked irritated as Shrek. "He's the winner, Magi."

Shrek resented the house guests. But he appreciated Pips' sarcasm.

"Oh aye." Shrek motioned sardonically at Arthur. "And I hear he's also a king."

Pips grunted. "All star."

"Get his game on."

"Go play."

"Boys!" Fiona and Crysta snapped. "Shhhh! Let Magi work – "

Arthur glared from Shrek, to Pips, to Puss. As Magi approached, he shifted to see past her pink robes. " "Mr. Cat! Er, Mr. Boots! What do you mean Fantasia is –"

"Look Magi!" Crysta seized Arthur's tunic. "Look under here!"

"Whoa – what? Wait a second what are you -?"

Pips snickered as Crysta wrenched Arthur's tunic over his head. The black fabric tangled under his chin, and it took a hearty pull from Fiona to yank it free.

"Gotta nice set of ribs there, Majesty." Pips joked. "Bet the ladies like to count them, twelve in a row."

Shrek chuckled. He disliked ferngullians, but Pips was growing on him.

Pips was _not_ growing on Arthur. Neither was Shrek.

But he was more concerned with Puss' remark.

"What do you mean Fantasia is – ow!"

"He's so cold!" Crysta kneaded Arthur's chest. Overzealoused with curiosity, she pinched his skin. Hard. "Colder than the sleet! Colder than ice! Magi _feel_ this! This is incredible! This is amazing! This is – "

Suddenly Arthur's hair streaked white. Arthur shivered. Shrek, Fiona, and Pips frowned as Crysta squealed.

"Did you see that? Magi! His hair is turning white, just like snow! Magi what does this mean? Is it a curse? Is it a hex? Is there any way to – "

"Crysta. _Calm_."

Magi steepled her fingers. "Remember, it is the _balance_ of fervor and focus that moves us forward. Fervor is chaotic. Focus is inflexible. However, an equilibrium of the two..."

Magi touched a fingertip to Arthur's sternum. Gently, she traced his heart. "...brings mystery to light."

Magi's finger began to glow. Arthur exhaled as the glow dispersed under his skin and circulated through his heart. The organ illuminated like a sea-green lightbulb. Arthur held his breath. Magi's magic didn't hurt, but it didn't feel good either.

It felt intrusive. Like a parent cleaning your room. Both good and bad.

"Magi?" Crysta crouched. The sea-green glow collected in her eyes. "Magi, what is it?"

Magi beckoned. With her free hand, she placed Crysta's over hers. "Feel, Crysta. Not only with touch. Explore with all of your senses. Close your eyes. Concentrate."

Crysta obeyed. She closed her eyes. Concentrated.

"Ice?" she finally ventured.

Magi nodded. "What else?"

Crysta furrowed. Her own magic – neon blue – pulsated erratically.

"Um...um..." Suddenly Crysta gasped. Pips fluttered forward as she jerked from Arthur. "Dark! Dark! Magi I felt... _dark_."

Crysta rotated her hands. She twiddled her fingers. "Is that possible? Is it possible to feel _dark_?"

"Yes." Magi folded her hands. They disappeared inside her pink robes. "Ice and dark are siblings. The cold and dark of space. The cold and dark of night. The cold and dark of winter. The cold and dark of nightmares. The cold and dark of shadows. The cold and dark...of fear."

Magi regarded Arthur. "This human has ice in his heart."

"Ice in his heart?"

"Yes. Ice in his heart, put there by someone in fear. If not removed, this boy will freeze to solid ice. Forever."

No one spoke.

"But." Crysta finally wavered. "You can remove the ice? Right Magi?"

Magi shook her head.

"This ice is dark magic, described to me long ago by Grand Pabbie. Grand Pabbie was a Fantasian. A troll, a magician that fought during the Dark Ages. The Dark Ages were a time of evil. A time terrorized by three demons...Eris, Hexxus...and Pitch Black. A time of cold. A time of fear."

Magi gazed at Arthur. "Fear is cold. But love is the warmest emotion. Only an act of true love can thaw a frozen heart."

Snowflakes flicked across the window.

Arthur squeezed his chest. "But... she doesn't love me."

Crysta peered. "Who?"

"Elsa. Elsa put the – " Arthur shuddered. Fiona draped the quilt over his shoulders as several blonde locks turned white.

"Elsa cast the spell. Elsa put the ice in my heart. It was an accident, she didn't mean to, but..." Hopelessly, Arthur rubbed his freezing heart. "But I don't know how to make her love me. Jumping harptoads!"

Arthur clenched his bangs. He saw the white and panicked. "I don't even know if Elsa survived!"

"Oh sí, sí, sí señor!" Puss waved his feathered hat. "La princesa she is alive, yes! As you say, Elsa? The queen of snow? Sí tambien – she is with Pitch Black."

They turned.

" _What_?" Shrek said.

Suddenly the wind howled. Snow curled under the door and down the chimney as nightmares and dragons streaked the sky.

"Ah." Puss twitched his tail. "Lo siento, allow me to explain. Our King is dead. Fantasia she burns. El macho se llama _Ruber_ has been christened the new king by Pitch Black, a bad man who threatens to freeze the world with the powers of Elsa princesa, a lady whom he holds at the North Pole."

Puss pondered. He flicked a whisker as a cutthroat mob raided the swamp.

"And," Puss continued. "King Ruber threatens to kill everyone until the king of Fantasia and his magical sword are found. The king of Fantasia – Arturo Del Rey. King Arthur."

Puss genuflected at Arthur. "Him."

Arthur enjoyed a fleeting moment of triumph before Shrek picked him out of bed.

"Fiona! Donkey! Puss! Take the kids and hide! Scram! If it's King Artie they want –" Shrek hauled Arthur by the seat of his pants. "Then it's Artie they'll get."

"Wait no! Shrek!" Fiona hollered over the war cries. "Shrek what are you doing?!"

Shrek looked back. He smiled at Fiona and winked.

"Distraction." Shrek whispered, throwing Arthur over his shoulder, and barreling into the mob. "HEY! OI! OVER HERE! I HAVE KING ARTHUR! COME AND GET HIM!"

Shrek ran. He headed for the hills; a dozen armies in hot pursuit and Fantasia's king bouncing over his shoulder.


	103. Chapter 103: Blindsided

**Chapter 103: Blindsided**

"They found that king!"

"King?"

"The boy king!"

"The king of Fantasia?"

"Aye, the king that stuck Stoick!"

"There's a reward for his capture!"

"And death if he goes free!"

"Where is he?"

"Ferngully? Ogre Swamp? I don't know – but he's fled north!"

"North?"

"North into Avalon?"

"North into the snow storm?"

"North!"

"Grab your knives!'

"Grab your pitch forks!"

"Arthur is his name!"

Thugs, scoundrels, and thieves emptied from the darkest nooks. Ruber's decree had spread like wildfire. The Otherland turned ravenous. Every predator was awake and hunting for King Arthur and his guardians.

Garrett was disenchanted.

Blood, guts, glory…meh. Garrett had never benefited from the whole _'mob mentality'_ thing. He exerted only enough energy to survive, and saved the rest for emergencies. Survival was economical. Survival was smarts. Survival was a dice game – so Garrett played the odds.

And 'playing the odds' meant avoiding mobs. 'Group-work' was general discouraged in the Otherland. As a rule, ' _friends'_ were ' _frenemies_.' A ' _pat on the back'_ today, turned into a _'stab in the back_ ' tomorrow.

Garrett understood these truisms. So, he stood alone. Let the mobs chase King Arthur if they wished – the reward for capturing Schmendrick was good enough for Garrett. He didn't need to pursue Fantasia's king.

Kayley was furious.

"How can you just sit there?!" Kayley yelled as Rumpelstiltskin and Fifi galloped after the mob. Three ruffians followed. Apparently this corner of Dragon Country was inhabited by scum. "How can you just sit there when King Arthur is in danger?!"

"Simple." Garrett responded. He had quickly learned to answer Kayley's questions; Kayley was a chatterbox and she did _not_ like being ignored. A terse response was usually enough to shut her up. "I just cross my legs, slouch my back, and wait."

"Wait?" Kayley swung against Schmendrick, forcing the wire net to spin. Schmendrick spluttered - he'd been trying to cast a spell without much luck.

"Wait for what?" Kayley gestured. "For Ruber to come get us?"

"King Ruber."

"For the world to freeze over?"

"Ah, I thought it was snowing."

"For your stupid bird to come back?"

"Aiden is a falcon and yes, he's guiding Ruber's Viking chief to take the magician. I believe the Viking's name is Drago. He should arrive soon. With a dragon."

"Heavens." Devon moaned. "Pray it's not a zippleback."

" _Pray_ whatever the species," Cornwall grumbled. "It eats you whole."

"Corny that is poor taste!"

"Tastes better than you!"

"Half wit!"

"Twinkle toes!"

"Brute!"

"Prick!"

"Quiet!" Kayley and Garrett said together. They paused, surprised by their synchronization, but Garrett recovered first.

"All that bickering. Day in and day out." Garrett traced circles with his staff. "Two headed dragon? I'm surprised you haven't fried each other yet."

"Fry?" Devon lamented. Shamefully, he attempted to blow fire. "We can't even simmer. Kahhhhhhhhh!"

Cornwall grimaced as ash sprinkled from Devon's throat.

"Yeah you see unless most dragons, Devon can't blow fire or fly." Cornwall flapped their midget wings. "Puh. Sad, really."

Devon was insulted. "Oh _excusez moi_ , Mr. Self-Denial! But _we_ can't breathe fire or fly!"

"Only cause you're holding me back!" Cornwall flicked Devon's snout. "If I didn't have you I could do a lot of things!"

"Be quiet, for instance?" Garrett rubbed a temple. He was getting a headache. "Or eat the girl so I wouldn't have to listen to her?"

"That is no way to address a lady!" Devon scolded.

Cornwall agreed. "Don't you be mouthing such a fine looking broad!"

Garrett smiled. He made no comment.

Kayley did.

"You are disgusting, Garrett. Disgusting."

"Thank you. I'll have to take your word for that."

"And a coward!" Kayley sneered. "I can't believe you're giving into Ruber!"

"King Ruber." Garrett corrected. "And I'm not giving into him. I'm giving him the magician for a reward. There's a difference."

"There's no difference." Kayley snarled. "Ruber is a _murderer_. He killed my mother and father. And now he's butchering the Otherland _and_ Fantasia to find King Arthur. He's not a king. He's a killer."

"One in the same." Garrett replied, still drawing circles with his staff. As he spoke Kayley watched – without sight, Garrett's circles were lopsided and incomplete. "Ruber did not inherit the throne. And he did not pull a sword from a stone, as happened with Caliburn. The Fantasians, King Arthur, killed the Otherland's king. Ruber is fighting this war to avenge him…"

Garrett paused. Sighing, he scratched indiscriminate lines across the rock. "…so Ruber's tactics are expectedly harsh. Very harsh. But expected. The King was The Otherland's last hope. We owe Ruber allegiance for avenging his death."

Schmendrick and Kayley balked.

"Wait." Kayley dropped her anger. Just a bit. "Garrett you – did you know The King?"

"No. I only heard stories. Stories of knights. Stories of valor. Stories of love." Garrett turned, detecting the caution in Kayley's voice. "Did you know The King?"

Kayley glanced at Schmendrick. When Schmendrick did not react, she answered truthfully. "My father did. And…so did Schmendrick."

Garrett was silent. Then carefully, he addressed Schmendrick.

"So. The King... did he really have knights?"

Schmendrick smiled.

"All the legends are true, Garrett." Schmendrick removed his blue hat. "A short time ago, yesterday it seems, The King set out to reclaim Caliburn. I was with him. Along with my teacher, Master Emrys, Kayley's father Sir Lionel, and Hiccup the dragon trainer of Berk. We journeyed to the heart of Avalon. We found Lady Amalthea, The King's true love. We beheld Odette, the Lady of the Lake who offered The King his magical sword. But…"

Schmendrick welled. A tear slid down his enormous nose. "But Ruber attacked. Ruber and Drago. They killed Sir Lionel. And they killed The King. They killed The King with his own sword."

"But!" Schmendrick suddenly lit. "But The King has returned! There was a prophesy – "

"Spoken by The Lady of the Lake?" Garrett verified. "Twinkle, twinkle little star?"

"Yes!" Schmendrick gushed, too enthused to notice that Garrett knew the prophetic verse. "I heard The Prophecy in full. And the last line goes like this – "

Schmendrick cleared his throat. As he recited, a large shadow swept circles around their little band.

"Twinkle, twinkle little star, then is near, future is far. To stall evil and peace mend, past must be present again. Twinkle, twinkle...little thing... _Hail the Once and Future King_."

Schmendrick sighed. "Garrett. The reason that Ruber attacked Fantasia …is because Arthur... _King_ Arthur…is The Once and Future King. King Arthur _is_ The King – Amalthea's king – The Otherland's king. _Our_ king."

A bitter wind blew, clearing unkempt hair from Garrett's milky eyes.

"Past must be present again?"

Schmendrick blinked. He had hoped Garrett's response would have been more awe-inspired. "What?"

"Past must be present again." Garrett repeated. "The line from The Prophesy. What does that mean? _Past must be present again_? Does that mean The King, this time as King Arthur, will pull Caliburn from the stone? Just as before?"

"Ummmm." Schmendrick hummed uncertainly. He turned to Kayley for help, but the large shadow crossed over their camp again, which Garrett somehow sensed.

"I'd hurry." Garrett motioned. The shadow rippled across his brow. "Aiden is back. Feel those gusts? Smell that charcoal? A dragon is landing, and the rider is probably Drago. So if you are going to convince me to join your quest, you had better do it fast."

Kayley pounced on his offer.

"It could be anything! _Past must be present again_ could mean anything! The only way to know for sure is to— " Kayley clapped. "We have to go to Avalon! The Lady of the Lake can retell us The Prophesy and answer our questions! Schmendrick, maybe Caliburn is there! The rumors say that King Arthur is headed north, right? Maybe King Arthur is going to find Caliburn! Maybe he's going to find the Lady of the Lake!"

"Maybe he's just running for dear life." Cornwall pointed up. "Like we should, before we get barbecued by this bully."

All faces but Garrett's looked skyward as Skullcrusher, Stoick's rumblehorn dragon, dropped. As the dragon's green and red wings lowered, Drago emerged from the saddle, his bullhook wedged in Skullcrushers hide.

The earth cracked. Schmendrick seized Kayley. Devon and Cornwall squealed.

"Right." Garrett grasped the net. His fingers interlaced with Kayley's as Aiden darted overhead. "Change of plans. We're going to Avalon. Magician? Schmendrick?"

"Yes?" Schmendrick trembled. The bony landscape vibrated as Skullcrusher crunched towards them. "What, what, what?"

"Well I can't speak for you, but I can't outrun a dragon." Garrett whacked the wire mesh with his staff. "Now would be a good time for some _actual_ magic, yes? Send us to Avalon." Garrett wavered as the ground shook. "Quick would be best."

Schmendrick obliged. At least, he tried.

"Magic do as you will!" Schmendrick begged, groping for the cosmic forces beyond his control. "Magic do as you will!"

They lucked out.

Blue magic howled from Schmendrick's hands. Kayley heard Drago scream and felt the net shake around her as he advanced. Eyes closed, Kayley prayed Schmendrick's magic would help them escape.

The magic condensed. Blue sparks popped like popcorn. Aiden cuddled Kayley's neck. Devon and Cornwall hugged her middle. Schmendrick swung his arms for a final, magic burst –

"Kayley?" Garrett said.

Kayley peeked. Garrett, although he could not see, was facing her. Directly. And with his abrupt, unobscured view, Kayley saw through Garrett's muss and tuss.

She was blindsided. Garrett was handsome. Very.

"Yes?"

Garrett squeezed her hand. "I knew your father."

 _POW._

Schmendrick's magic exploded, just as it had before. A bounty of blue sparks flung them in a wild direction, perhaps a stone's throw closer to Avalon than before. The magic _also_ dumped them on two unsuspecting victims.

The victims?

An ogre. And a boy.


	104. Chapter 104: All That Glitters Is Gold

**Chapter 104: All That Glitters Is Gold**

Among Arthur's problems:

(1) Elsa left him standing at the altar.

(2) Excalibur was missing.

(3) He was a wanted felon.

(4) His kingdom was overthrown.

(5) His heart was full of ice.

(6) He was slowly freezing to death.

(7) Elsa needed to fall in love with him to resolve problems 5 and 6.

(8) He was being chased by a murderous mob.

(9) His life was literally in Shrek's hands.

(10) And finally,

"Stop calling me Artie! My name is Ki—"

Shrek hiked a shoulder into Arthur's ribcage, shutting him up. The motion was more vindictive than necessary – at Shrek's pace, Arthur could hardly breath. It was a bumpy ride. Shrek was a bulldozer. His footprints left craters and trees practically scurried from his path.

Although he was mad, Arthur admired Shrek's strength. And his speed. And his stamina. And his agility. And his –

-okay Shrek was pretty cool.

But Arthur was still mad.

"I'VE GOT YOUR KING!" Shrek bellowed at the mob. "THIS WAY! COME GET HIM!"

"I'm not b-bai-bait!" Arthur's jaw clattered as Shrek leapt over gravelly ledges. They had long lost Ogre Swamp, but the rocky terrain was nonetheless inhospitable. "If yo-u're g-go-ing to ha-nd me ov-v-ver j-just do it! Let go s-so I ca-can – "

"Think you can escape, do ye?" Shrek surfed down a landslide. "Gonna outrun the mob?"

Arthur kicked. "I'm going to outrun you!"

"Ha!" Shrek laughed. "That's a farse!"

"That's the truth!"

"You're a real gas, kid."

"So are you!"

"Comes with the skin, I'm an ogre."

"Well I'm a king!"

"Artie you're not a – "

"Stop calling me Artie, I'm telling you – I am _King_ _Arthur_!"

"You're a royal pain in the – "

Blue sparkles whacked Shrek like a brick wall. Three humans, a two headed dragon, and one silver-winged falcon followed, mimicking the proverbial bricks tumbling down. The opportunity would have been the perfect escape had Arthur not stumbled backwards into Kayley, who stumbled backwards into Garrett, who stumbled backwards into Schmendrick, who stumbled backwards off a cliff.

Luckily they landed on the mob. Unluckily the mob noticed. Most unluckily of all, Shrek attacked the mob and Arthur was right back where he started – slung over Shrek's shoulder.

"Nice try _Highness_!" Shrek heaved Arthur _back_ up the cliff. Devon and Cornwall gaped as Shrek climbed while hollering to the mob. "LAST CALL FOR KING ARTIE BEFORE I EAT HIM!"

"King Artie?" Kayley stopped. A butcher knife spiraled over her ear as she turned to the cliff. "Artie as in – _Arthur_? Artie as in –? _Eat_ _him_?"

Kayley blundered after Shrek. Schmendrick yanked her sleeve, but she pulled away. "It's Arthur! It's King Arthur! Devon! Cornwall! Stop that ogre, don't let him – "

"Aiden!" Garrett grabbed Kayley's forearm. Using her body to guide his, Garrett threw his staff as Aiden screeched over Shrek. The staff shot towards Aiden's target, spearing the base of Shrek's skull.

Shrek turned. Very, very slowly. So venomous was his gaze Garrett _felt_ it. Even the mob was scared.

"Well, see you, good luck, have a nice life!" Cornwall waved Garrett goodbye. "What's ever left of it…"

He was not exaggerating.

Shrek hooked Arthur's armpit. Dangling the boy in clear view, he shouted, "Whoever kills the blind guy gets the kid!"

"Oh great." Garrett spun. Hoisting Kayley by the waist, he swung her blindly at the mob.

Needless to say, Kayley was surprised. But as her foot bashed nose after broken nose, Kayley glowed with adrenaline. The thrill of the fight, the taste of _victory_ , was delicious! Unable to hide her delight, Kayley screamed directional cues to which Garrett immediately responded.

"Left!"

Garrett hurled Kayley left. Whack! A broken jaw.

"Right!"

Garrett threw Kayley right. Pow! A bloody eye.

Pure elation. Dedicating every blow to her father, Kayley fought with Garrett. As they progressed, she urged him after the ogre and boy. It was a difficult task, even with Kayley's spirited attack. The mob was thick, and Kayley's blows were no match for their weapons.

The battle condescend – Shrek climbed the cliff towards Devon and Cornwall –

But fortuitously (for once), Schmendrick panicked. He tripped over an axe, spluttered an incorrect enchantment, and everyone (excluding Schmendrick) fell fast asleep.

"Dear." Schmendrick shambled over the snoring bodies. His magic had quite the devastating and comical effect: the sleepers would randomly snort out hard candies. Schmendrick took a moment to marvel: _Magical hiccuping. was new side effect._

Schmendrick gathered Kayley and Garrett. Remembering Aiden, he draped the falcon inside his robes. Finally, Shrek was warily approached. The ogre had plunged from the cliff and was snoring black licorice from his nostrils. Beneath Shrek was a small, slumbering somebody.

"King Arthur..." Schmendrick crouched against Shrek. Wobbling with the strain, he propped Shrek over his shoulder and fished the boy from underneath –

 _Wait. Boy?_

Schmendrick sat on his heels. Baffled, he rubbed both eyes. He blinked. He scratched his hat. "But...this...isn't..?"

The mysterious boy groaned in his sleep. Then he hiccupped. A butterscotch popped from his mouth.

"He's so... _young_." Schmendrick gulped. Magic bubbled nervously inside his stomach like an overdrawn cauldron. "This can't be...The King. This can't be...King Arthur."

Shrek covered Schmendrick's face.

"That's what I thought."

* * *

 **... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... .. ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ...**

* * *

Snow was crumbling around him when Arthur woke. The flakes were fluffy. There weren't many snowflakes, hardly enough to lace the air, but they were cold. So cold.

Arthur curled his fingers. Bones cracked. Tendons creaked. The tips were blue. The tip _tops_ were ice.

It was happening. It was happening just like Magi the ferngullian had promised.

He was freezing to death. And if he couldn't make Elsa love him... _truly_ love him…

Arthur slid back an arm, bending at the elbow. Bracing, he attempted a feeble lift but even _that_ smll movement was taxing. Arthur slumped, descending onto two fat knees.

"Evening Artie."

Shrek.

"Ohhhhhh." Arthur moaned, jaw so stiff he was unable to talk clearly. Painfully, Arthur massaged the boney prominences just distal to his ears. The bones popped as he worked the frozen joint. "Not you."

"No. Not just me."

Shrek lay Arthur beside a small fire. Arthur cuddled closer, trying to soak the warmth before noticing Schmendrick, Kayley, Garrett, Aiden, Devon, and Cornwall across the flames. All, with the exception of Garrett, were quietly staring.

"Well would you look at that." Shrek flicked a finger. "You've got a whole audience Your _Majesty_."

Shrek's condescension was clear. But Arthur overlooked his tone – by now the sarcasm was routine as the ogre's green skin. Arthur forced himself not to retaliate. He had bigger problems.

"Who are you?" Arthur began, eyes falling on Kayley, who was gazing most intently (and sympathetically). "Why were you – are you – chasing – oh. Oh wow. Cold."

Arthur tucked both fists beneath his arms. He was _freezing_. A desperate, frantic part of his mind had a wild thought - _jump into the fire. It's warm._ Arthur was tempted, but he rocked back and forth instead.

"Wow…." Arthur cringed. Frost prickled through his heart. "Wow. I…I feel…so bad."

"I can imagine." Schmendrick said. Blue magic sprouted under the magician's heels as he clumsily rounded the pit. Schmendrick removed his ratty robe. Draping the blue fabric over Arthur's head, he wrapped the sleeves like a scarf and hung the hem like a shawl.

"It's not much." Schmendrick mumbled. He glanced at Arthur, almost shyly. "Especially not fit for… for a…"

Schmendrick paused. He searched Arthur's face.

"Are you…pardon…are you… you're not The King? Are you?"

"No." Shrek answered automatically for Arthur. "No. He's not. It's like I told you – he's freezing to death. It's a curse cast by some broad. Artie just thinks he's The King. But if you ask me, his head that's full of ice."

"I couldn't agree more." Devon nodded authoritatively. "It's like an ice-cream headache. You lose all higher capacities."

"Not to mention the lower ones." Cornwall muttered, swishing their tail. "Indigestion. Lactose intolerance. The runs."

Arthur glared at the two headed dragon before entreating Schmendrick. "Please. Don't believe them. I'm King Arthur. I am. King Arthur lord of – "

"Fantasia." Garrett finished. "But what about the Otherland?"

"Otherland?"

"Yes." Garrett motioned to his head, caricaturing a crown. "The King of the Otherland. Are you he?"

"Am I who?"

"Are you The King of the Otherland?"

"More specifically, "Schmendrick quantified. " _Were_ you?"

Arthur started to feel Devon's ice-cream headache. "Was I The King of the Otherland? No. No I am Arthur, king of _Fantasia_. _The_ King – _your_ king – I'm sorry but…I think he passed."

"He did." Schmendrick gently said. "Very much so. But, according to Odette, The King was born again. The King of the Otherland was resurrected as King Arthur of Fantasia. He was…and is…The Once and Future King."

Arthur _definitely_ felt Devon's ice-cream headache.

"W-w-wait. The Once and Futu – the _what_? You think I'm the who? The _what_?"

"The Once and Future King. The reincarnated soul of The King of the Otherland. And we don't um… _necessarily_ think it's you." Schmendrick looked disappointed. "We think it's King Arthur."

"Okay but— " Arthur pressed his eyes, beyond frustrated. "But I _am_ King Arthur! Why would I lie about that?"

"Good question." muttered Shrek.

"You _saw_ those people chasing me!" Arthur pointed through the snow. Smoke billowed distantly from Ferngully and Ogre Swamp. "You _told_ them that I was King Arthur! That _cat_ said I was King Arthur - "

"Puss eats his own kitty litter," Shrek interrupted. "I could tell Puss that _Donkey_ was King Arthur and that crazy cat would fight to the death!"

Arthur argued. "Then why did you save me?"

"I was being Mr. Nice Guy."

"Oh that was your Mr. Nice Guy?"

"Yeah." Shrek smirked. "And I'm gonna miss him."

"This is...this can't be happening." Arthur kneaded his heart. It was almost laughable. One night ago, he would have handed his kingship to the first person that asked. But now, with royal obligation burning inside him, he was dethroned.

Fantasia needed him. Arthur _needed_ to help.

He tried again.

"You _have_ to believe that I'm King Arthur. Jumping harptoads! Why else would you help me? Why else are you still here?"

Grimly, Shrek chuckled. "Call it a heavy heart, kid. I had to draw those mobs from my swamp. Wouldn't have _really_ minded if you died."

"Surprise."

"I've got a family, Artie. Three kidies and a wife with an amazing set of...well." Shrek assessed the burning landscape. Old, angry creases crossed his brow. "This hunt for _King_ Arthur is spoiling my happily ever after."

It was bizarre to hear an _ogre_ saying ' _happily ever after_.' Shrek sounded like he was attempting a foreign language. It was fascinating: monsters seeking happily ever afters equally as humans? Hm. Arthur was intrigued, but he withheld further questioning. Again, he had bigger problems.

"Fine. I can't be what you don't want me to be." Arthur sat upright. Mostly. "I'm finding Elsa and saving Fantasia."

Shrek watched Arthur wobble. "Gonna crawl all the way, then?"

"Maybe." Arthur retorted, pushing to his feet. He stopped halfway to catch his breath. "Doesn't – doesn't matter. As long as I – _whup_!"

"You're sick Artie." Shrek caught Arthur as he buckled. "Sick with a cold, and sick with an imagination high as the – "

"I'm not imagining!" Arthur almost yelled. "I _am_ King Arthur!"

"No you're – "

"Maybe he is." Kayley said, suddenly speaking for the first time. Without looking from Arthur, she offered a resolution. "Schmendrick there _has_ to be a way to prove Artie is The Once and Future King."

"Or is not." Garrett softly added.

"Well." Schmendrick contemplated. "I suppose we could try…asking questions?"

"Questions?" Shrek scratched his rump. "What kind of questions?"

"Questions that only The King would know." Schmendrick replied. "If Artie _is_ King Arthur, then that would mean he is _also_ The King of the Otherland. So he should be able to answer questions about _The_ King correctly. Right?"

"At least." Garrett stroked Aiden. "It's our only option. Artie – are you willing?"

"I'm King Arthur."

"To be determined." Cornwall jibed.

"There's nothing _to be determined_! I _am_ King Arthur and I can answer any question that you –"

"Master Emrys." Schmendrick said, ending Arthur's rant. "Who is he?"

Arthur frowned. The name was unfamiliar. "Emrys? I… I don't know an Emrys."

"And you don't recognize me." Schmendrick murmured, his hope diminishing. "You recognize neither the wizard nor the court jester."

Arthur caught the magic word. "Wizard? Wait, wizard – do you mean Merli -"

"Knights." Garrett leaned towards Arthur's voice. "Knights of the Round Table?"

Relief. Arthur nodded.

"Yes I have a Round Table. But…"

Arthur considered lying. But his conscience overruled. "But no knights. I have guardians and advisors that meet at the Round Table. But no knights."

"No knights?" Kayley hopped desperately to her knees. "But what about Sir Lionel? You knew my father, didn't you?"

Again, Arthur considered a lie. But,

"No. I'm sorry. But - "

"What about Caliburn?" Garrett asked. "Tell us, what is that?"

Arthur ached, but not explicitly with cold. He was losing what little faith they had been willing to give. "I don't know."

"Avalon?"

"I don't know."

"The Lady of the Lake?"

"I don't know."

Schmendrick whispered faintly as a prayer. "Amalthea?"

Arthur paused. For some reason his heart tingled. For a sweet instant, a sugary, sparkly _something_ blossomed then disappeared.

"I…don't know."

Every face fell.

"All that glitters is gold." Schmendrick folded his hands. Mournfully he announced, "Artie is not The King."

Their silence was broken by a faraway cry. The cry was grisly and wet – like a tortured animal. Or, as Shrek darkly explained, tortured people.

"There's a bloke named Ruber. Says he's the new king. Ruber's killing everything and anything until King Arthur is found." Shrek boosted Arthur over his shoulder. "Since they think you're King Arthur, we're going to play charades. You want to find this Elsa broad? You want to go north into the snowstorm?"

Shrek trudged into the wilderness. "Wish granted. The further you are from my swamp, the safer Fiona will be. Come on Artie. Let's go."

Arthur was too tired to protest. He was also overpowered by Kayley, Garrett, Schmendrick, Devon and Cornwall galloping behind.

"Wait!"

"Where ya going?"

"Hold it!"

"We're coming too!"

"Caliburn may be in Avalon!" Kayley skipped to Shrek's right, leading Garrett by the hand. She ducked as Aiden flapped overhead. "If Caliburn is there, we can find it!"

Schmendrick skipped to Shrek's left. "And I am certain that Odette is still alive – even if she was _accidentally_ magicked into a swan. Odette can re-recite The Prophesy! Perhaps The Prophesy will tell us something about The Once and Future King's whereabouts!"

"And we're not going back to Dragon Country alone!" Devon and Cornwall trotted up the rear. "Ruber's got all sorts of fire breathing dragons and boogy woogy nightmares on the loose! Better stick together!"

Garrett was dry. "You are stuck together."

They all laughed, despite their sadness.

That is, everyone laughed but Arthur.

His heart was much too cold.

Except when he quietly wondered,

"Who is Amalthea?"


	105. Ch 105: Chase the Wind Touch the Sky

**Chapter 105: Chase the Wind. Touch the Sky.**

Lana snapped open her beer can.

She took Wendy's finger, stuffed it inside the opening, and sliced her skin against the sharp, aluminum edge.

Blindfolded and chained, Wendy could only writhe as Lana ground her finger in bloody circles. She paused only to rinse Wendy's cuts with the alcohol before sticking a second finger in the can.

Merida and Robin hammered their prison bars as Wendy screamed. The mermaids toasted, taking turns to batter Merida and Robin with Ariel's trident, and pour beer down Wendy's corset.

Hiccup watched. The mermaids were too tipsy to notice, but he still surveyed from a remote corner, hidden from view. Stoick's death was still too raw: Hiccup didn't want anyone to see him cry.

Moreover, Hiccup wanted to study Wendy. Years of dragon training had made him empirical. Like dragons, Hiccup knew that people acted most naturally when observed from afar...

Wendy was a mystery. Hiccup had witnessed her ability to destroy. Wendy had destroyed his father, at least she'd contributed to his downfall. However, Wendy also bore the name of the person that had helped Toothless.

Hiccup didn't know what to think. He couldn't decide if Wendy was guilty or innocent. So, as he would any dragon, Hiccup watched Wendy in secret.

The prisoners were held in iron castings (courtesy of Drago's pirate affiliation) and Wendy was strictly bound. Her wrists were restrained, but the mermaids had freed Wendy's fingers for torture and fun.

 _That_ confused Hiccup. He'd _seen_ Wendy take down dragons. He'd _seen_ Wendy work shadows in her hands. Why wasn't she fighting now? True, the lights were dimmed and Wendy was blindfolded, but she wasn't even trying. She'd…given up.

"Aw, are you going to cry? Are your fingers hurt?" Lana pressed the beer can to Wendy's mouth. Cordelia extended Wendy's head, forcing her to swallow. "Drink the whole thing and we'll stop! Come on dearie! Sip! Sip!"

Hiccup left, unable to endure the torture a second more. Lana's joyful shrieks followed him from the barricade and into the Fantasian metropolis.

Hiccup stood a moment, just to stare. The land was dark. Dark with ash, dark with shadows, dark with nightmares, and dark with soot. Mesmerized dragons flew in mindless semi-circles. Red and yellow embers rained slowly from the sky, glowing over fleshy, smelly graves.

Hiccup scanned the graves. The dead bodies were unrecognizable. However, Hiccup knew the heaps of peeled skin and twisted bones belonged to Fantasians, Otherlanders, and dragons. Ruber – _King_ Ruber – was slaughtering _everyone_.

And Drago didn't seem bothered. Drago had assured Hiccup that this was righteous. This was vengeance. This justified Chief Stoick's death and The King's murder.

Drago assured Hiccup that when King Arthur and his guardians died, there would be peace.

"Peace."

Hiccup remembered his father – the strongest Viking with a heart of gold. He remembered The King – a man who sacrificed everything for love. A man who had waited 100 years to spread the hope he'd held protected in cupped hands.

Hiccup found Toothless amongst the mesmerized dragons, savaging carcasses like a monster. He listened to Wendy, crying for a boy named Peter.

Hiccup reached inside his pocket. The note he'd found on Toothless' saddle crinkled. Hiccup closed his eyes, envisioning Wendy's signature on the note.

"Peace. I'm good at that."

A bitter wind blew from the north, carrying snowflakes, ash, and particles of coal. The wind pushed over the graves and rattled the children hanging from the Great Wall.

"Okay."

Decisively, Hiccup turned, wind scratching the tearstains from his cheeks.

He collided with Astrid.

"Shut up, don't talk because _boy_ do I have news."

Astrid clunked Hiccup's chest plate with her axe. "Stoick was _burned_ to death, Hiccup. He was _burned_ by dragon fire. I looked, I saw. There are no cuts, clean lacerations, bullet holes, or stab wounds. Drago was _lying._ King Arthur didn't kill Chief Stoick with his sword, it was a dragon. And I bet Drago was the bloodsucking traitor that gave the order to – "

Hiccup pulled Astrid inside the prison. "We're rebelling. Follow my lead."

Now, Astrid was not one to 'follow leads.' That is, unless Hiccup was taking charge. After all, Hiccup was technically the new chief. Moreover, he was also her boyfriend. Astrid was her own woman, but if she _had_ to have a boyfriend, she wanted a _man_.

 _Finally_. Astrid trailed Hiccup as he approached the mermaids, Inferno unsheathed. The mermaids paused.

Astrid grinned.

 _Hiccup was manning-up._

 _Thank Thor_.

"Time to clear out." Hiccup flicked Inferno. "Astrid and I are taking over sentry. You can go."

Merida and Robin made several offensive statements, all of which included the phrase "you dirty Vikings." The mermaids were equally uncompromising.

"Captain Hook put us in charge!"

"You can stay if you'd like!"

"Thirsty?"

"Join the fun? She doesn't mind – " Maris shoved the beer can to Wendy's knuckle. Hiccup tensed as the skin split. "Do you dearie?"

Tears leaked under Wendy's blindfold.

Lana giggled. "We're just here to make sure little miss shadow worker isn't _lonely_ before Pitch returns. Pitch and Peter Pan."

Lana yanked ribbons from Wendy's corset, exposing her chemise. She smirked as Limpet fished underneath for Wendy's bra. "Captain Hook's orders."

Hiccup thought fast. "Captain Hook sent us. He told us to make you leave."

"Really? Captain Hook?" Lana clenched Wendy's hair, anchoring herself to the spot. "Why?"

Hiccup pointed to Wendy's fingers. "Her hands. Didn't you hear Captain Hook's _orders_?"

"That's right." Astrid hefted her axe. "I believe his exact words were, _do not let her hands free_?"

"Well her hands are free." said Hiccup.

"You disobeyed orders." Astrid clarified.

"Captain Hook is mad."

"Are you girls seriously that ditzy?"

"Astrid, get rid of these Fantasians." Hiccup stooped for Wendy's hand-clamps. Feigning frustration, he fit the iron shells over her fingers. "After I fix this mess, I'll report them to Captain Hook."

Lana dropped her can. Beer popped into Hiccup's face as she marched by.

"No need, dearie. _We'll_ tell Captain Hook for you. I'm sure he'll _love_ to know that you're so interested in Peter Pan's prude. Ta ta dearie."

"Tootles."

"Later bitches."

"Bye bye shadow worker."

"We'll give Peter a kiss for you when he comes!"

Merida spit and snarled. "Hope Peter bites ye!"

Robin went the extra mile. "Ariel is going to fry you all in your sleep!"

"Not without her trident!"

"Details. There are several ways to fry a fish."

"Animal!"

"Fish!"

"Prisoner!"

"Merida, I believe Peter would say…codfish?"

"Aye. Codfish!"

Hiccup continued to bind Wendy as the mermaids departed. When the last insult was thrown, he swiftly reversed steps, unlocking the clamps.

"Astrid, find the gang. Snoutlout and Fishlegs are with Gobber, tell them to stock on weapons. Travel size, we're making a quick escape. I don't know where the twins are, but I need them here before those mermaids notify Captain Hook – "

"Oh Merida look. It's the much aggrieved Viking. What was the name? _Hiccup_?" Robin leaned against the bars, his claws extracting and retracting. "Young, Fantasian-hating Hiccup. I'd recognize him anywhere. Nasally. Crippled."

"And scrawny." Merida glared. "Robin are ye sure he's a Viking, then? I'm having second thoughts."

"Well he is murderous."

"And gutless."

"Brutal."

"Hideous."

"Foul."

"Stinky."

"Criminal."

"Cruel."

"Come to think of it Merida." Robin bore sharp teeth. "Perhaps Hiccup _is_ a Viking. A dirty Viking just like the rest of his dirty kin – "

 _Clang._ Astrid whacked the bars with her axe.

"Shut it! Both of you! This war was not our idea! It was Drago's! Drago was controlling our dragons, there was nothing we could do!" Astrid jerked her axe at Hiccup. "Can't you see we're trying to help?"

Merida and Robin reacted identically...

Ruthless sarcasm.

"Ohhhhhhhhhhh! Oh you're trying te _help_?" Merida fanned herself. "Oh I'm soooo sorry, Miss Viking! Robin, we're both tidwits! They're _actually_ trying te _help_!"

"A pox upon me, I should have known!" Robin motioned ceiling to floor. "Because locking us behind _imperishable_ prison bars is _clearly_ a random act of kindness!"

"Obviously."

"How foolish."

"We missed that one."

"Never mind the torture Wendy, they are _true_ samaritans!"

Astrid almost fed Robin her axe. Merida would have been next had Hiccup not _insisted_ Astrid leave.

"Go get the guys, meet me here as soon as you can! We're busting out, and we're taking our dragons with us." Hiccup unknotted Wendy's blindfold. "I'll deal with her. Astrid – go."

"Hiccup we – " Astrid stopped. She stared at Wendy as her blindfold fell.

It was pitiful. Absolutely pitiful. Wendy was so weak it was unsightly. Astrid was revolted. She didn't mind the cuts – Wendy had many – but the girl looked deteriorated. Wendy waited before Hiccup submissively, all crumpled and curled – _for Thor's sake couldn't she sit up straight_?

"Hiccup, you're kidding!" Astrid kicked a beer can. She scoffed as Wendy flinched. "We are not rescuing _her_! She _can't_ be part of your plan!"

"Astrid." Hiccup unpocketed a folded note. "Go."

"But - "

"I'm depending on you. Go get the guys. Go."

Astrid obeyed, but with her opinions made perfectly clear.

"Lovely." Robin muttered as Astrid left. "She seems a wonderfully chastened female."

"Oh aye. Hey Hiccup!" Merida slapped her tenderloins. "If I were a boy, I'd pee after her footprints. Just so ye know."

"You want me to do it?" Robin offered.

Merida shrugged. "Only if ye have te go."

Robin unbuckled his trousers. "With my dedication…."

Thereafter followed a spray and sprinkle which Hiccup ignored. Thornily, he refocused on Wendy.

"Wendy?"

She did not respond. Except for a stray tear, she hardly moved.

Hiccup frowned. "Your name is Wendy?" he repeated, raising his voice.

Again nothing.

Unfolding Toothless' rescue note, Hiccup placed the paper on Wendy's knees.

"Is this you?"

Wendy glanced tiredly. Then she straightened, blue eyes rapt with recognition.

"You wrote this note?" Hiccup tapped her signature. "This is you? _As Ever – Wendy_?"

Wendy exhaled. Her lips were sticky with dried beer, and her throat was hoarse from screaming. But when she spoke, she sounded nostalgic. Almost homesick. "The magic fish sticks…we used pixie dust to… "

Wendy's gaze lowered. A tear dripped onto her third postscript, the one pleading Peter to respond.

"Oh I…" Wendy shifted. The chains prevented her from turning away. "Yes."

Hiccup shook the letter. "So you wrote this?"

"Yes."

"You are _this_ Wendy?"

"Yes."

"Then you saved Toothless." Hiccup turned Wendy's chin. "You saved my dragon."

Wendy nodded into Hiccup's palm. But she was spiteful. "If I had known you were going to hurt us …I wouldn't …have… I would have kept him in the Underworld… so you couldn't…"

Wendy blinked. A black tear stained her cheek. "Why did you attack?"

Hiccup broke Wendy's restraints. "Good question. Hey – archers? You know how to pick a lock?"

Merida and Robin combed their cell as Hiccup hoisted Wendy upright. "Yes? Why?"

Hiccup strode briskly for the exit. Before leaving, he tossed them Inferno. "Because I want that back."

They watched Hiccup disappear with Wendy. Then, they looked simultaneously at Inferno. The sword had clattered between the bars, hilt angled helpfully inside.

 _Yay._

"Chase the wind?" Robin said, twirling the sword behind his back.

Merida caught Inferno as Robin released. Hair bouncing, she thrust the blade through the padlock.

"Touch the sky."

* * *

 **... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ...**

* * *

Hiccup averted the light. Wendy may have been temporarily vindicated, but she was _still_ a shadow worker. Best to avoid light, ergo avoid casting a shadow.

Hiccup wasn't exactly _sure_ what shadow working was, but he gathered it was dangerous. It _also_ seemed related to ripping dragons from the sky and breaking Drago's hypnotic spell. Pretty powerful. Few Vikings could boast Wendy's skillsets. And they gave Hiccup an idea.

"Once we meet up with Astrid, _you_ are going to free our dragons." Hiccup steered Wendy inside a charred, brick edifice. The ceiling had collapsed to the floor in a rubbery, smoky mess. "Do whatever it is you do to break Drago's spell. Once we're in the air, you can fight _them_ – "

Hiccup gestured overhead, to Pitch's nightmares streaking the sky.

"— and we can fly to Berk. I've got a feeling it's just Gothi back home, but she's a shaman. Medicine woman. She'll be able to heal us while we plan a counter attack."

"Oh and by the way – " Hiccup added, scoping the battlefield for Astrid. "—my name is Hiccup. Toothless is my dragon. Thanks for saving him, Wendy. Wendy?"

Hiccup turned. Wendy was on her way out.

Fortunately, Ruffnutt, Tuffnutt, and Astrid were on their way in.

"Hiccup! Oh my Thor! Astrid said we're rescuing Barf and Belch, and breaking like EVERY rule!" Ruffnutt tousled Hiccup's hair. "Always knew you had in in ya little guy."

"Just needed a leg to stand on." Tuffnutt said, hooking Wendy's neck. "Peg leg and all."

"Fill the Chief's shoes." grinned Ruffnutt. "Peg leg and all."

"Get your feet wet!"

"Break a leg!"

"Dig in your heels!"

"Stay light on your feet!"

"Okay seriously?! _Enough_ of the one legged jokes!? Please?!" Hiccup ground his prosthetic as Astrid bound Wendy's wrists. "I need all of you to pay attention, it's only a matter of time before the mermaids alert Captain Hook, and Captain Hook discovers that - okay Astrid why are you tying up Wendy?"

"Who's Wendy?" Snoutlout and Fishlegs entered, arms stacked with maces and spears. Dropping his weapons, Snoutlout complained. "Why the heck are we risking our necks to tick off Drago and who the heck is Wendy?"

"Cause Drago sucks more than usual, and behold Exhibit A." Tuffnutt said, presenting Wendy to Snoutlout.

"Doesn't matter if Drago sucks!" Snoutlout glanced angrily at Wendy. "He's going to kill us and our dragons when he …he...well _hellllllllllo_."

Snoutlout leered at Wendy, fully noticing her. If there was one thing Fantasia had, it was a surplus of single females. (Unlike Berk).

Removing his helmet, Snoutlout slicked his matted hair. "Hey there Fantasian. Come on and bite me…you know you want to."

Wendy made a repulsed noise.

Tuffnutt smirked. _Yahs! Snoutlout was finally off her radar!_

"Sounds like a yes to me!" Tuffnutt shoved Wendy. "Here ya go Snoutlout – molest away!"

"Whoa Sis, wait." Ruffnutt tugged Wendy from Tuffnutt. "I thought we were feeding her to Barf and Belch?"

"Naw. Too small, right?"

"Maybe snack size."

"True."

"Okay. Stop." Hiccup rescued Wendy from Ruffnutt. Placing her behind his back, he explained. "Nobody is eating, molesting, or tying up anyone! Gang, this is Wendy. Wendy is - um. Okay, remember when Toothless fell into that chasm? In Avalon? With The King?"

"Here we go." Snoutlout rolled his eyes. "Everybody take a shot whenever Hiccup says ' _The King_.'"

"Wendy saved Toothless." Hiccup continued, silencing Snoutlout with a glare. "And she's going to help save our dragons tonight. Guys, we're rebelling against Drago and – "

Everyone objected. Wendy included.

"Rebelling against Drago? Hiccup!" Snoutlout squeaked. "Drago has Captain Hook, King Ruber, _and_ the Nightmare dude on his side! That's a whole lot of authority! He'll murder us!"

"Um Hiccup, Snoutlout is right." Fishlegs tapped his index fingers. "Maybe we should just put the Fantasian back where you found her."

"I still vote we feed her to Barf and Belch." said Ruffnutt.

"Agreed." said Tuffnutt. "That is, if you're sure molesting is out."

"Jealous my little turtle dove?" Snoutlout smooched.

Wendy stomped her foot. She'd had enough.

"I'm not helping any of you!" Wendy shouted to be heard. The Vikings were easily a head taller and several decibels louder. "You are _monsters_! Monst – "

"You're the monster!" Astrid countered. " _You_ are the one that tore Stormfly from the sky! Her left wing was shred to pieces before I – "

"You killed innocent people!" Wendy answered. "You killed women, men, _children_! My little brother is only eleven! My second brother is engaged with a future and they were happy and - and - oh I have _no_ idea if they survived–"

"For the love of Thor are you seriously going to cry?" Astrid sneered. "Hiccup, Ruff and Tuff are right! Feed her to the Zippleback."

"Go ahead!" Furiously Wendy wiped a tear. "I'd expect that from you!"

"Hooray you guessed right!"

"You disgusting, beastly – "

"Is there a reason you haven't messed up _our_ shadows or do you just hurt dragons?"

"Guys! Girls! Whatever! Knock it off!" Hiccup shouldered between Astrid and Wendy. Calming Astrid and keeping Wendy on a leash, he addressed the group at large. "We've all got a common enemy, right? Drago? Ruber? Captain Hook? Pitch? Okay, then I say we avenge my dad, avenge The King, save our dragons, and fly our butts back to Berk so we can plan our next - "

"How?" Astrid jabbed her axe. "There are nightmares in the sky! We'd never fly through."

"That's why I brought Wendy."

"That's why you brought Wendy?"

"Wendy is a shadow worker. She can protect us from the nightmares."

"Ha! What about Drago's spell, smartie? Does Wendy _also_ have a mute button?"

"Astrid - "

"And if so, can she use it on herself?"

Wendy growled. "How dare you - "

"Wendy can break Drago's spell with her shadow working." Hiccup raised Wendy's hand. "Astrid you saw her save Stormfly. I saw it happen with Toothless!"

Astrid scowled. "You have an answer for everything, don't you Hiccup?"

"As many answers as you have arguments, Astrid."

"Um guys, I hate to interrupt but…" Fishlegs pointed a trembling finger. "But uh… King Ruber…"

They turned. Ruber smiled behind his sword.

"Change of plans!" Hiccup seized Wendy and ran. "Everybody to your dragons! Now!"

* * *

 **... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ...**

* * *

Hiccup threw Wendy at Toothless.

"Do your shadow thing!" Hiccup swung his shield, protecting Wendy from gunfire. Bullets, arrows, and knives slapped across his shield. "Quick, wake Toothless up!"

Wendy scraped beneath Toothless' tail. Forced to choose the lesser of two evils (the Vikings), she probed the earth for Toothless' shadow. Her fingers itched and stung where the mermaids had cut. But as she searched, Wendy couldn't find a shadow.

"Hurry!" Hiccup yelled. "We've still have to save Stormfly, Meatlug, Barf, Belch, and Hookfang!"

Wendy could only _assume_ Hiccup meant their dragons.

But she was powerless. There were no shadows.

She looked up.

"There's no moon! The nightmares are blocking the stars! I can't find shadows without the light!" Wendy pawed beneath Toothless as the dragon turned, a bloody hip socket in his mouth. Wendy almost vomited. Toothless had been ravaging the burial mounds. He was mesmerized to kill.

Toothless dropped the carcass. He burrowed for Wendy, pupils shrunken to wild, fitful slits.

"Oh n – " Wendy stumbled back. "Hiccup!"

"Okay, okay light! Inferno! Inferno I gave Inferno to – rats!" Hiccup dragged Wendy away, shield propped overhead. Artillery bumped over his shield as he strategized.

"No shadow, no shadow...okay! Got it!"

Snatching Wendy's wrist, Hiccup suddenly reversed directions, heading _towards_ Toothless. Sprinting, he propelled Wendy's hand at Toothless' open mouth.

Wendy's heart ruptured. " _Hiccup_?"

"Put your hand on his nose!"

" _What_?"

"It's a technique! A dragon training technique!"

Hiccup drove down Wendy's arm. "It calms dragons! Toothless responds to you, so just open your fingers, brace yourself and – "

 _Smack!_ Pain shot up Wendy's arm as her hand hit Toothless' snout. Hiccup pressed her palm as the dragon blinked – snorted – shook his head –

"Yes! Bud!" Hiccup rejoiced as Toothless roused from Drago's hypnosis. After an elated chest bump, the pair snapped into battle mode. Toothless crouched. Hiccup yanked Wendy onto the saddle and into the air.

They were immediately attacked.

"Toothless!" Hiccup veered left and dipped vertical. He saw Drago mounting Skullcrusher and Captain Hook aiming through a rifle scope. They hadn't much time. "Toothless! Over by Stormfly! Plasma blasts!"

Toothless fired. Wendy felt the plasma burning inside his chest before discharge. The heat swelled for a hot second before shooting up Toothless' stomach, throat, and tongue.

As the plasma fired, Wendy rocked. Toothless' detonation had generated a backwards force which Hiccup compensated with a forward lean. Wendy clung to Hiccup. She almost fell. But just as she regained balance, both Toothless and Hiccup rolled midair.

It was incredible. In a stomach-churning way. There were countless forces pushing, pulling, twisting, and stretching, but Hiccup and Toothless navigated them flawlessly. They flew at incalculable speeds, piloting the battlefield fluidly. It was incredible.

 _Actually_ , Wendy realized, _it felt similar to solar surfing_. _It was turbulent. Extreme. Fast._

 _Very fast._

"Wendy!" Hiccup shouted, diving towards Stormfly. Wendy could hardly hear over the wind. "Wendy! The plasma will give you light! Three seconds! Grab Stormfly's shadow and – "

"ARRRRAAHHHHH!" Drago screamed, bullhook reeling. Toothless hurled riotously into Stormfly, caught by Drago's spell. Both dragons thrashed, beating madly against each other until Wendy grasped their shadows and shred.

It was painful, but the dragons were freed. Drago's hypnosis broke. Protected by the Vikings, Wendy repeated the sequence for Meatlug, Hookfang, Barf and Belch, reclaiming the dragons for Fishlegs, Snoutlout, and the twins.

That was the easy part.

Sweeping low to avoid Pitch's nightmares, the dragon riders fled. It was an untidy, scruffy escape but successful. That is, they made it out alive. With their dragons. And with Wendy.

Merida and Robin surveyed their departure from the Great Wall.

"Chase the wind…" Robin waved.

Merida saluted with Inferno. "Touch the sky."

They smiled. Then they sped through their secret handshake.

"Well done." Robin hip bumped. "Shirked death again, dear Merida!"

"Aye Sir Robin!" Merida responded with a butt slap. "Okay. Nuff celebrating. Let's find Ariel."


	106. Ch 106: I'm Afraid We Have Good News

**Chapter 106: I'm Afraid We Have Good News**

"Not the eggs! Not the eggs! Crikey, don't crush the eggs!"

Ariel swerved as Bunny darted after five children. When he caught up, the children dolefully surrendered their rainbow colored Easter eggs.

"Sorry Mr. Bunny."

"We weren't stealing." apologized the oldest. "Promise."

The littlest member rubbed his grumbling tummy. "I just feel all funny."

"Sorry." they chorused again.

Bunny's ears drooped. He didn't need Ariel's disapproving glare to concede; the children had already softened his heart. To a marshmallow in fact.

"Well. Buck up ya little ankle biters." Bunny flicked an egg. The shell wobbled in his palm as the yolk magically hardboiled. "Just wanted to make sure you didn't eat 'em raw. Go on, here you go. And kids…"

Bunny winked. He pointed sideways with his left ear. "See that tree? There are jelly beans growing inside the blossoms."

The children squealed. The youngest (a girl named Penny) hugged Bunny's knees before racing after her friends. "I love you Mr. Bunny!"

Bunny grinned like a leprechaun on St. Patrick's Day.

"Little ankle biters." he murmured, watching sweetly as the children jumped for the jelly beans. Noticing Ariel, he quickly resumed the 'tough guy' routine. "Gonna eat me out of house and home. Hope you Fantasians aren't in the mood for Easter this year, because my supplies just hit rock bottom!"

Bunny hopped irritably away. "Come on, sheila. We'll be late for the council."

Ariel followed. Although she condemned Bunny's behaviors, she could definitely understand his point.

The Warren was overcrowded. Way overcrowded.

A warren (as Ariel recently discovered), was a network of underground tunnels, specific to rabbits. Bunny's tunnels traversed the entire planet, and emptied into _The_ Warren. _The_ Warren was a subterranean paradise, complete with jellybean trees, Easter egg flowers, and an ancient springtime forest.

It was bright. It was colorful.

And it was crowded.

Bunny, Tooth, and North had managed to stick an entire populace underground. Of course, the decision had saved thousands from certain death, but King Arthur's subjects were now fugitives. And the fugitive life (magical springtime Warren aside) was a dismal one. The Fantasians were angry, scared, and they were getting pretty sick of the jellybean - hardboiled egg diet.

Ariel reflected _. Thank god for her father_.

Following the battle, Admiral Triton's first act had _not_ been to heal the Fantasians. His first act had been to _police_. King Arthur's absence was the perfect opportunity for lawbreaking, so Admiral Triton established order faster than a riptide. Mulan, Shang, Captain Amelia, and P.I. Basil were working double duty. Stewardship was passed to Headmaster Mickey (King Arthur's predecessor) and…to Ariel.

Headmaster Mickey and Ariel were in charge.

Strangely, Ariel was not overwhelmed. Hers was a malleable personality, and she accepted King Arthur's responsibilities without question, switching from her guardian role to stewardess easily as water evaporates to air.

Furthermore, Ariel saw no reason to be overwhelmed. True she was essentially safekeeping an entire kingdom. However, she was operating alongside Headmaster Mickey. Vis, there were two people doing the job previously done by one: King Arthur. Ariel figured she and Headmaster Mickey had it easy.

Well, _easier_. Thus far, ruling Fantasia had not been a picnic.

There were a number of unending problems. First, people were injured. The cramped quarters further reinforced the spread of disease. Ariel solved the problem by enlisting ' _the healers'_ – a group of Fantasians that had been granted healing magic from The Wishing Star (via the Magic Bag of Tricks). Dr. Sweet was elected Chief Medical Executive, and the team began the long healing process.

The second problem was shelter. Thankfully, Bunny's Warren was supplied with abundant food and drink (jelly beans, hardboiled eggs, rainbow colored water), but not everyone fit. Fantasians were leaking into the peripheral tunnels. And it was _there_ they were at risk. Dragons were burrowing underground, sniffing for Fantasians and eating them alive.

Ariel had spent days scouting the tunnels, finding lost Fantasians and guiding them to The Warren. Bunny had been _her_ guide. And for some reason, they were getting along famously. Probably because Bunny was sullen, serious, passionate about his work, and intensely protective of his friends.

Just like Jim.

Ariel lagged behind Bunny. Secretively, she placed a hand on her stomach and held it there, waiting for a beat, a mystic sign, _something_ to tell her if Jim's baby was inside. Nothing happened (Ariel hadn't really expected anything), but it felt good to daydream.

She daydreamed about their children – Ariel wanted two. A boy and a girl. Jim liked the name Melody, Melody Hawkins. _Middle name? Eh, Jim didn't care. Melody Hawkins sounded cute enough._ Ariel grinned to herself. _Weirdo_.

Jim also liked the name Jon, but Ariel wanted their boy to have a middle name. She insisted. _Hm. Jon. Jon Pleiades Hawkins. That was nice._

Picking at her seashell locket, Ariel remembered the baby socks Jim had given her right after they wished upon _Alpha Eridani_ , the tiny shooting star. Suddenly Ariel smiled. _Eridani. Gosh, that would make a pretty middle name too. Melody Eridani Hawkins_. _Yes, Jim would like that – even though he would claim the 'star theme' was lame._

Ariel released her stomach. As they approached a small gathering at The Warren's epicenter, she inwardly admitted. _Wendy was right. Inside the storm cloud, Jim was just a happy little rainbow._

Ariel sighed _._ She knew she'd been unfair to Wendy. Jim had a weird father-daughter-best-friend relationship with her, and Wendy had a weird mother-son-best-friend relationship with him. They'd met when their parents disappeared, and it didn't take a genius to figure out that Wendy had subconsciously tried to become her mother and Jim had subconsciously tried to become his father. At least, that was Ariel's diagnosis. It was sick, twisted, but adorable.

And, if his reaction towards Wendy and Peter was _any_ indication, Jim was going to be a ruthless, overprotective, _incredible_ dad.

Ariel missed him so much.

 _But_ Ariel thought, weaving between Headmaster Mickey and her father _she still wished Jim had proposed. In fact, that was what she had wished Alpha Eridani for. Leave the baby making to biology. Jim needed all the magic in Fantasia just to pop those two little words…marry me._

Ariel shook her head as Headmaster Mickey began his report. _What a dumb, sexy, noncommittal guppy. Again, she missed Jim so much._

"I'm afraid we have good news." Headmaster Mickey said.

"Afraid we have _good_ news?" Flynn elbowed North. The two had befriended almost instantaneously (even though Flynn was on the Naughty List). "Must be code for spilling the bad news in a good way."

North concurred. " _Da_."

Headmaster Mickey motioned behind Mulan and Shang. As they parted, he explained. "We've found Merida and Robin."

"Oh. Afraid we have good news." Flynn shot two thumbs up. "Now I get it."

North concurred again. Merida and Robin - frequent fliers on the Naughty List. " _Da_."

The council looked. Merida and Robin had been sitting behind Shang, slumped against a mossy log. Both were exhausted, smelled faintly of smoke, but were happily munching handfuls of jellybeans. Merida was handing Robin her yellow jellybeans. Robin was trading hers for his black.

Tooth bristled. "Sugar. Nothing but sugar." Agitatedly, she wound a string of floss. "Make sure you brush."

Ariel smiled at Tooth. She admired the tooth fairy; Tooth was the perfect blend between herself and Wendy. Energetic, sensitive, motherly….Plus, Tooth could really kick butt.

Returning to business, Ariel rapped her foot, asking Headmaster Mickey to continue. Normally she would have performed the motion with her trident...

But her trident was with Lana.

Again.

Bitch.

Headmaster Mickey moved to the council's center. "Captains Shang and Fa found our royal vagabonds in a surface tunnel. 'Parently, the Vikings have special dragons that can dig underground…"

"Slither—somethings." Merida picked yellow jellybeans from her pile. "Slithertongues? Slitherlips?"

"Slitherfangs." Robin corrected, accepting her yellow beans. "I heard Drago telling Ruber. My ears are sharper than yours, remember?"

Merida chewed his black jellybeans. "Aye. So are yer teeth."

"Very true. Sharp as your tongue."

"Thanks!"

"Welcome!"

"How fast can Slitherfangs burrow?" Captain Amelia asked. "And how far?"

Merida bridged Inferno across her knees. She and Robin began lining jellybeans across Hiccup's blade. "No idea. We just know that they do. And that they're under some sort of hypnotic spell."

"Hypotonic spell?"

"Aye."

"All the dragons." Robin said, sorting jellybeans by color. "Mesmerized. Hypnotized. Spellbound to kill."

Ariel tapped her temple. She gave a questioning look. _What do you mean?_

Admiral Triton translated. "Explain further."

Robin shrugged. "We really can't."

"We can't explain the magic." Merida clarified. "Dirty Vikings don't brag much. They're not like Captain Hook. Won't tell ye their evil schemes outright, not even te boast. Tend te be a quiet bunch."

"However." Robin offered. "We do know this. The magic seems to be coming from a Viking named Drago. And Wendy can break his spell."

Ariel snapped. _Wendy?_ she mouthed. _You saw her? Where is she? She okay?_

Shang attempted a translation. It wasn't accurate, but it was close. "Wendy can break Drago's spell? How?"

"And what are the implications?" Admiral Triton added. "Does it matter if the dragons are spellbound?"

"Or will the dragons attack regardless?" P.I. Basil said.

"If the Vikings butchered you this far mate." Bunny nudged. "Then yeah, I think they'll attack regardless."

North darkly concurred. " _Da_."

 _Um hello?!_ Ariel snapped again, this time harder. _Is Wendy okay?_

Headmaster Mickey softly asked her question. "Merida? Robin? Is Wendy alright?"

Merida and Robin lowered their jellybeans. Silently they debated.

"Not…for certain?" Robin finally ventured.

Merida slid jellybeans over Inferno. "Now _we're_ the ones afraid we have good news. Wendy was em…well I guess ye would say she was... _saved_ by some Vikings."

"I would _hesitate_ to say _saved_ , Merida. " Robin brushed pink pollen from his tail. "Wendy was… _coerced_."

"Aye." Merida agreed. "Bullied. Strong-armed, more like."

"Violently persuaded."

"Aye. So," Merida submitted to Ariel. "I suppose that's good news?"

"Ha. Good news." Robin nibbled a jellybean. Grimacing he spit, realizing it was black. "Good- _ish_."

"Aye." Merida ate the jellybean for him. "I mean, it's good compared te what the mermaids were doing to her…"

Merida faded. Robin shuddered. They didn't expound, but there wasn't a need. The council could infer. Ariel clenched an invisible trident, her emotions on fire.

However, Admiral Triton was professional and flat. "She was tortured."

They affirmed.

"Nothing lethal." Robin assured, although he sounded queasy. "The usual petty abuses one would expect. Mocking, name calling, minor lacerations, burns, beatings etcetera. No, they seemed to be saving Wendy for someone named Pitch."

"Da! Pitch Black!" North proudly pressed his belly button. "Yipa, the tummy, she speaks again! Is worse than I thought. Pitch _is_ after your shadow worker."

"Pitch is the nightmare king." Tooth explained, predicting the question before it was asked. "Nightmares and shadows are very similar. Both are made from unhappy thoughts. Since Wendy is a shadow worker, we think that Pitch has been entering her mind."

"Entering her mind?" Headmaster Mickey frowned. He had some experience with shadow workers, but this was new information. "You mean, like a shadow?"

"Da. Pitch is almost shadow himself." North scrunched his white hair. "He can enter the mind!"

"Especially a shadow worker's mind." said Tooth. "Shadow workers are _designed_ for fear. Pitch would enter Wendy's mind and feel right at home."

"Pitch controlled shadow workers during Dark Ages." Bunny crossed his arms. "And he was starting to control Wendy. We saw it happening, actually. Before Sandy saved her."

Tooth circled her face. "Maybe some of you saw it? Her eyes were soggy? All black? With black tears?"

"Shadows glued to her skin?" added Bunny. "Black sand crawling inside her mouth, nose, and ears?"

"And nightmares." North finished. "Always the nightmares. The type that never wake up."

Ariel wished she could end the silence. Flynn did it for her.

"So basically, Wendy is toast? Kidnapped by Vikings and Pitch Black sneaking into her brain?"

Nothing.

"Super." Flynn mumbled. "Anyone else got good news?"

Merida raised her hand. "Elsa's alive."

"But." Robin said. "She's trapped in the North Pole. There's a snowstorm brewing, Elsa must be distressed. Her powers are uncontrolled, just like the last time. Pitch is up to no good."

Merida tried again. "King Arthur's alive."

"But there's a reward for his head." Robin amended. "And no one is _exactly_ sure where he – "

"—or Excalibur – "

"—actually are. Now there _is_ a rumor that King Arthur is in the Otherland and headed north. However…" Robin gestured to the guardians. "Unless you can give us a ride in your reindeer sleigh – "

"Through the nightmares, shadows, dragons, and snow." Merida stipulated.

"—then we'll just have to pray King Arthur happens upon a rabbit hole," Robin flourished, "And tumbles into this magnificent wonderland."

"Unless." Merida repeated. "Ye can get magically poof us out another way."

Bunny and Tooth looked at North. North, to everyone's surprise, chuckled. He went ' _ho ho ho_ ,' shook his belly like a bowl full of jelly, and withdrew a magical snowglobe.

"Where you want to go?" North asked, giving the snowglobe an inviting swirl.

* * *

 **.. … … … … … … … … … .. … … … … … … … … .. … … .. … .. … …**

* * *

The plan was drawn. The plan was set. The plan was a simple, solid, and safe.

Admiral Triton hated it.

"Scouting is not going to solve anything. We have all the information necessary, this is a waste of essential combat force. By the sea and stars!"

Admiral Triton ground his fists. Headmaster Mickey glanced as the admiral cracked every knuckle. Together they watched Ariel. She was buttoning a borrowed military uniform, preparing to surface with Bunny, Tooth, Flynn, Merida, and Robin.

Headmaster Mickey scanned his old students. He fought a grin – Ariel had collaborated with Flynn, Merida, and Robin before. They'd fought together during The Battle to Take Fantasia, when the school was laid under siege. What a combination. What a team.

The only Fantasian missing was Mulan. Mulan was needed underground; she and Shang would establish the Fantasian army while Ariel's unit searched for King Arthur. Once Arthur was located, Bunny would bring His Majesty to The Warren. If Arthur was incapacitated, Bunny would deliver his whereabouts, and the Fantasians would attack – via North's snowglobe portal.

Either way, North's snowglobe portal could only open to a _location_ , not a person. So Admiral Triton was mistaken – they did _not_ have all the information necessary. If King Arthur was going to be rescued, they had to find him first. And they had to find him before Pitch, Ruber, Drago, and Captain Hook.

Fortunately (and unfortunately), Wendy was a distractor. If Merida and Robin were correct and Pitch Black wanted Wendy, then she could lure his attention away from Ariel. Hopefully, Ariel and her band would find Arthur before Wendy got hurt.

Hopefully.

"This will work Admiral." Headmaster Mickey said, eyes on Ariel. His gaze drifted as Flynn kissed Rapunzel goodbye. Ariel turned as Rapunzel cried and Flynn gently consoled, nuzzling Rapunzel's baby belly with his nose.

"This will work." Headmaster Mickey repeated, more confidently as Ariel buttoned her jacket to the chin. "Ariel is strong. Stronger than the others. She was a guardian long before the Wishing Star chose her. You couldn't stop Ariel from protecting King Arthur if you tried."

Admiral Triton stared at his daughter. He faltered then paused, studying Ariel's expression.

"I cannot stop her." Admiral Triton finally said, striding from Headmaster Mickey. "But she is not going for sake of the king."

Headmaster Mickey smiled. "Nope." he agreed as Admiral Triton approached his daughter. "Probably not."

The troupe was dispatching, Bunny in the lead and Ariel bringing the rear. Without prompting, Ariel backtracked to give her father a hug. It was heartwarming – even for a crusty old barnacle as Triton.

"Use your mother's head." Admiral Triton straightened Ariel's collar. "And don't be afraid to retreat. Remember, you can often go faster by slowing down."

Ariel nodded. She understood. With a final squeeze, she turned to leave.

Admiral Triton did not release. For a moment he just stood, hands upon her shoulders. Then,

"Jim Hawkins…"

 _Delicately_ , Admiral Triton rubbed Ariel's cheek.

"Jim Hawkins gave me a message at King Arthur's wedding. The message was for you. Do you know what he said?"

Admiral Triton's face was stone. But when he spoke, his voice trembled. "He said…tell Ariel that I have asked your father. Tell Ariel that I asked him for your hand."

Ariel didn't remember the rest. She was too busy charging after Bunny, thundering through the tunnels, and bursting into the burning air…

…one hand on her stomach.


	107. Chapter 107: The Bitch's Son

**Chapter 107: The Bitch's Son**

Sinbad could have orchestrated the attack to music. In fact, as _The Princess_ tackled the _FFCCGC Leviathan_ , he was humming the _Star Wars_ theme. It was so easy. Fantasian vessels were equipped for long-range combat. So, Sinbad turned right around and challenged the warship for a short range fight. The maneuver was fondly known as Operation IYFB ( _In Yo Face Bro)._

It never failed. Never.

Crack! The bowsprits kissed. Sinbad's pirates showered The _FFCCGC Leviathan_ with wire cables, mooring the ships together. The rest was pretty much routine. The Fantasian sailors cursed without actually swearing, and pulled shiny pistols from their perfectly pressed uniforms. Then came the shouting, the barking, the tactics, the formations, the disabling of enemy cannons, the manning of torpedoes, the yatta, yatta, yatta.

Typical. Basic. Boring.

Sinbad rolled his neck. Time for his two favorite words.

"Guys." Sinbad waved lazily across the helm. "Have fun."

Marina jumped over a cable as it zipped through the hawsehole, straining to hold the Fantasian warship. "No prisoners? Kill them all?"

Sinbad contemplated. He was in a sour mood. A few slit throats would do wonders for his confidence (not to mention his virility. His manhood had taken a beating of late. Literally.). However, after a sidelong glance at his cabin and thinking of Sarah inside –

"Eh." Sinbad reconsidered. "Fantasians have had a rough couple days. No killing. But I'm cool with anything else."

Marina planted a boot on the bulwark. "So sink and brig?"

Sinbad verified. "Sink and brig, baby."

* * *

 **… … … … … … … … … .. … … … … … … .. … .. … … …**

* * *

"What the hell?"

Jim lowered Morph. The _FFCCGC Leviathan's_ "correctional unit" was essentially a cage, within a cage, within a cage, within a security-code lock. Jim had muscled through the first cage, and was using Morph (shaped like a crowbar) to break through the second when he heard the cannon.

"The hell?"

A second cannon ball hit. Jim traced the vibration across the ceiling, down the wall, through the metal grates surrounding his cell –

"Jim!" John Smith crashed into the correctional unit as the _FFCCGC Leviathan_ tipped. "Jim, we're being boarded! Sinbad – "

The hull split. Metal encasings puckered from the wall, their edges melting under cannon fire. The ocean gushed inside as John Smith lunged for Jim's cell. But the instant Jim blinked, water had filled over his head. Underwater, Jim heard mechanical croaking and clunking as the ship's engines died. With a final angry growl, Captain Eric's warship capsized and sunk.

* * *

 **… … … … … … … … … .. … … … … … … .. … .. … … …**

* * *

"And it took us…" Sinbad marched across his prisoners. "…like three seconds. Rest well _FFCCGC Leviathan_! Dive down to your watery grave!"

Mockingly, Sinbad saluted as the ship's escutcheon dropped beneath the waves. He turned melodramatically to Eric as the red letters faded into the blue. "Alas, poor _FFCCGC Leviathan_. Her captain did _not_ go down with the ship."

"We can change that." Dimitri offered, jerking Eric portside. "Our plank still works. Nice and bouncy. Let's toss Blue Eyes over."

"Let's toss Blue Eyes _on_." Marina crouched, dangling her cleavage. " _On_ the bed."

Eric scoffed. He followed with an insult that was righteous, erudite, and extremely unthreatening.

"Ooo. He's fancy." Marina squeezed Eric's cheek. "Too bad I like the bad boys, sailor. But you might be fun for a laugh. Couple of drinks and who knows? Someone bring Blue Eyes a glass of wine."

"Oh certainly." Miguel pretended to serve. "On our finest china! Crystal in a cup! Squeaky clean!"

The pirates laughed. Sinbad chuckled.

Tulio groaned. "Aztec mother. Can we just lock them up already?"

"Hold your horses, Tulio. We've still gotta gloat." Sinbad joined Marina. Facing Eric, he motioned to the Fantasian crew. "Pick their pockets or something."

"Done it, boss. They got nothing. Nothing good. Can we _please_ just lock them up? Snowstorm is coming, and if we don't wrap the sails we're doomed."

"You are already doomed!" Eric curled a lip. "All of you! Your souls are hellholes – and that's where you belong!"

Sinbad stroked his goatee. "Interesting. Gotta name kid?"

"Captain."

"Ha, well _I_ am _actually_ the captain; this is _my_ ship. What is your _name_ – _name_ , sonny? I mean, I have no problem calling you Blue Eyes. However, you look more like a Gustov or Sam – "

"Eric. _Captain_ Eric. Fantasia's highest ranking naval officer second only to Admiral Triton – "

"Ahhh. So you're one of _Triton's_ puppies. Well…" Sinbad worked his lips, toying with several uncouth remarks. Finally, he said. "Did Triton tell you I was the big bad wolf?"

Unexpectedly, Eric grinned. "No. Your _son_ did."

Sinbad's smile dropped. His cockiness sunk to the bottom of the sea. But when he spoke, Sinbad _did_ sound like the big bad wolf.

"Well. Well, well. Apparently _Captain_ Eric wants his crew to rot in my brig."

Sinbad hauled Eric by his beautiful, black hair. "And I've got a special chamber just for you, sonny. We call it the chamber pot – you'll get to see my finer side." Sinbad smacked his rear. "Roughly four times day. More if there's spicy food for din."

Eric caterwauled as Sinbad yanked him undertow. The pirates followed, prodding the Fantasian sailors after Sinbad and thoroughly enjoying Eric's fussy show.

Miguel lagged behind, laughed cheerfully at the display. Nothing was so entertaining as a prisoner who made a spectacle of himself, then damned his pirate captors to Hell. _Hilarious! Silly virtuous sailors! Didn't they know that only Davy Jones could damn pirates to Hell? Puh. Ignorance._

"Tally ho!" Miguel salsa danced to the helm. He skipped to the beat of Eric's shrieks. And for his finale, Miguel took the wheel and sang into the shrouds. "Tally tally ho! Arriba tally h – "

"Where is my mom, asshole?"

Miguel heard the growl before the demand. A ruthless maneuver later, Jim had pinned Miguel against the helm. He shoved against the wooden spokes as John Smith guarded the immediate vicinity.

"Where is she?" Jim snarled, jaw cutting into Miguel's skull. He repeated the question so savagely, Miguel swore Jim was going to bite off his ear. "Sarah Hawkins! Tell me where she is _now_ or I'm going to break your fucking – "

Jim dug Miguel's windpipe, indicating exactly what he was going to 'fucking break.' The message was received, and Miguel pointed frantically to Sinbad's quarters.

"Hold him." Jim released, trading places with John Smith. Without pause, he crossed the short distance to Sinbad's cabin door. It was locked. But when he called, Jim heard his mother inside. Mind buzzing and heartbeat in his mouth, Jim seized a mounted harpoon, shoved the blunt end into the lock –

"Oh, oh, oh. Naughty, naughty, naughty boy."

Jim turned, harpoon caught between his hands and the lock. Marina smiled back, one eye squint down the scope of her pistol.

"I'll give you a head start." she lied, firing the gun.

* * *

 **… … … … … … … … … .. … … … … … … .. … .. … … …**

* * *

The wind was screaming when Sinbad ascended up-deck. Snowflakes flecked into his skin, sharp as needles, hard as ice. His crew was shouting. Each pirate was tangled inside a thick, violent mass, trying to subdue a prisoner that had evaded the initial capture. Sinbad was impressed. The mystery Fantasian was a fighter. He'd left a line of bloody noses and broken teeth.

Unsheathing his scimitar, Sinbad picked through the ring. Reaching around Eret, he grasped the Fantasian's ratty brown hair, wrencehd his face to the moonlight -

And stopped.

Dead.

Then his heart roared. It churned back to life for the first time in ten years. It exploded as his hand fell from his spitting image; his child; his baby boy; his son.

"Jim."

Jim stared. Sinbad saw his reflection inside the teal irises, sinking into the deepest, cruelest places of Jim's memory.

They made eye contact. And Sinbad was afraid.

Jim breathed.

"Son of a bitch."

Sinbad was stone. But it was not Jim's slur that unsettled him – it was the way Jim glared. Silent. Venomous. And bitter. Bitter to the bone. Or rather – the heart.

Sinbad straightened. "Put him with his mother." he ordered, scimitar slicing behind his back.

As Marina dragged Jim away, Sinbad forced himself not to run. He paused purposefully at the bulwark, calmly facing the snowstorm. But as Jim disappeared, Sinbad clenched the enchanted seashell necklace.

His fist, the one scarred by Captain Hook, trembled.

Uncontrollably.

* * *

 **… … … … … … … … … .. … … … … … … .. … .. … … …**

* * *

"Time to see mommy."

Marina surveyed Jim's imprisonment with a haughty smile. Unbolting Jim's harpoon from the keyhole, she gave an imperialistic flourish. "Guess you're the real son of a bitch."

Jim bucked against Tulio and Eret as they heaved him towards Sinbad's cabin. When they shunted him past Marina, Jim glowered through his bangs. He already _hated_ her. Marina's shot had grazed his shoulder, and it was an injury that Jim took like knife to the gut.

"Which whore are you?" he snarled, insinuating Sinbad's infidelity.

Marina smirked. "His favorite."

"So the one he pays?"

"Ooo. You _are_ a naughty boy. Just like daddy!" Marina backhanded Jim's temple. He retaliated and she hit him again, but more playfully than the first. "Bad boy. Didn't mommy teach you about manners? Or was that daddy's job? Little button nosed cutie – "

Marina smooched but Jim dodged, forcing her to kiss air. The abrupt movement shifted his balance, allowing Eret the second he needed to throw Jim into Sinbad's cabin.

The door was locked. Smug handshakes were exchanged. Mother and son reunited; the father stood alone.

And Marina dropped a second message-in–a-bottle overboard.

* * *

 **sultal's note: Video/Song for this chapter (with picture) on my You Tube page (sultal wf). Google search -** "Son of Sinbad (Giving Fantasia Disney Fanfiction)"

 **I wanted the pic and this song, which is from the TF soundtrack but with piano background. "8 Mile Road" by Eminem.**


	108. Chapter 108: Like Father, Like Son

**Chapter 108: Like Father, Like Son**

"Son of a bitch!"

"Jim!"

"That _son_ of a _bitch_!"

"Jim that's _enough_ , you are not helping anythi –"

Jim said something too evil to think, let alone say aloud. "Why can't that son of a bitch just die!"

"James Pleaides Hawkins!" Sarah stood between her son and the door. Jim had almost broken his fist against the panel. "Stop right now! _Right_ _now_! You and I are _both_ going to calm down! And when Sinbad comes back we are going to _listen_ to what your father has to – "

The bomb ticking inside Jim exploded. _Everything_ came out. Ten years of everything.

"Sinbad is NOT my father! Sinbadis the man that dumped you with me! _My_ father – " Jim pointed violently to space. " _My_ father is the one that had to clean up after his mess! _My_ father is the one that actually gave a damn! _My_ father is the one that said I could rattle stars! _My_ father is the one that believed I was something _better_ than Sinbad's son! My father – _my_ – is not – Sin—"

Suddenly, Jim was exhausted. His emotions were ravenous. His brain was overwhelmed. His memories were ugly, gritty realities. Jim was too exhausted to fight. So, with a rancid feeling spreading across his chest, Jim lowered to the ground.

How long he was there, and exactly when he fell asleep Jim couldn't say.

But when he awoke…

"Mom?"

It was dark. Jim climbed painfully from his slumber. His eyelids felt thick. And raw. And salty.

 _Salty? God - had he cried?_ Jim cleared mucous from his throat. _Crying. Great. Jesus he was turning into Wendy._

"Mom?" Jim repeated, sitting upright. He pressed both eyes. They stung. "Mom where are – "

"Mom's fine."

Sinbad's voice leapt from the shadows. Jim spun. The cabin was windowless, but Sinbad's face glowed against a pearly light. Swiftly, Jim traced lightsource to a golden seashell necklace. Sinbad was wearing the necklace, and although he appeared calm, two fingers were uneasily working the chain.

The necklace distracted Jim. Anger momentarily subsided, he studied the spiral shell. It looked familiar. Old memories itched, but did not surface to recollection. _Where had he seen the necklace before?_ Jim peered harder, trying to remember, but Sinbad interrupted his examination.

"Mom's up deck. In the crow's nest. Thought we'd enjoy a nice, quiet, _non-aggressive_ dinner under the stars. Had to tie her down of course. But, by the time we get up there she'll have most of the knots undone. Your mom's a tough cookie. Those are actually two of my favorite words...tough cookie."

Sinbad released the golden chain. "Like someone else I know."

The seashell necklace dropped, chain jerking and pendant thumping over Sinbad's heart. Jim watched the seashell swing like a pendulum before swishing aside. Lifting only his eyes, Jim glowered at his father.

Pure hatred. Sinbad could feel it. A switch blade to the groin would have hurt less. Unnerved (and irritated), Sinbad goaded Jim to break the silence.

"Gonna say anything?"

Jim glared. He said nothing.

"You going to talk to me?" Sinbad tapped an eye. "Or are we going to have a staring contest all night?"

Again nothing, just a murderous glare. Frustrated, Sinbad clenched his scimitar. Jim was unapproachable as a rusty chest. There was _no_ _way_ he was opening up.

Time to be delicate.

"Not much of a talker these days?" Sinbad returned Jim's glare. "Or are you just stuck with a stick somewhere a stick shouldn't be stuck? _Son_?"

Breakthrough.

"Son of a bitch." Jim hissed. He'd meant to growl, but he could hardly breathe. "You son of a bitch."

"Wonderful, so you _can_ talk." Sinbad forced a smile, knowing it would drive Jim insane. "Let's start over with the introductions, shall we? Luke I am your father."

"You son of a – "

"I know you know how to say _son of a bitch_. On point Jim, message received, daddy's little trooper learned how to swear. Keep it up and I'll keelhaul you. I think we're past the spanking stage."

"Past the –? You – you son of a _bitch,_ you can't tell me what to do."

"Strike two for the swearing, and yes I can tell you what to do. First, I am your father – son of a bitch, asshole, scumbag or not. Second, I am the captain of this ship and technically, _Jim_ , you are my prisoner. And third – "

Sinbad rose, one head taller than his son. "You don't know the whole story. I think you're entitled to it. _And_ , I think I deserve a little information from you. For instance, who was that girl you were mumbling about in your sleep? Also…"

Sinbad snatched Jim's wrist. He squeezed hard, pressing a thumb into Jim's right palm. "Why do you have this scar? This is Captain Hook's brand. The brand of a pirate."

Sardonically, Sinbad raised his left hand, exposing his own red scar. Aside from marking opposite hands, the scars were identical.

"Gone pirate?" Sinbad wiggled his fingers, making the scar stretch. "Or is this just a classic case of ' _like father like son_?'"

Jim jerked, but Sinbad held firm. Remembering that he (like his father) had a powerful grip, Jim used his left hand to break free.

"I don't owe you a god damn thing." Jim snarled, holding his hand. He hadn't remembered Sinbad's red scar (Sinbad had _many_ scars), but now that he knew what it symbolized, Jim's hatred grew.

"You're a god damn villain. You're one of Captain Hooks' dirtbags. Admiral Triton was right you _are_ helping Captain Hook. Son of a bitch – what, it wasn't enough just to leave and never come back? Or did you – "

"Jim I am _not_ kidding." Sinbad stepped. " _Quit_ swearing."

Jim stepped. "Or what? Going to sit me in the chair? Put me in time out? Run away again?"

"Keep throwing that in my face and you'll get a sore arm kid."

"That a threat?"

"That's a promise."

"Kinda like the promise you made me and mom?"

"Are you going to let me explain?!" Sinbad burst, provoked by Jim's bitter retorts. "Or are you going to keep up this pissing contest? Jim you've grown up! You are not a little boy! So quit with the bratty stuff, be a man, and listen to my side of the story! Don't you want the truth?"

Jim seethed. He practically blew fire. "I _know_ the truth. You ran away. And the only reason you're back is to help Captain Hook take Fantasia! Screwing mom and ditching me is just the bonus! More pirate playtime, right? Son of a bitch."

It was awful but Sinbad suddenly realized that Jim was right. If Pitch hadn't coerced him, Sinbad wouldn't have returned home. He'd be probably sailing for sunken treasure – Ruber secretly plotting a mutiny and Marina sharing his bed.

Jim was right. He was _dead_ right.

Holy Hell.

"Strike three for the swearing!" Sinbad spluttered, reverting to an outdated parenting tactic. "You wanted to be punished? Okay no problem – stay in here, Mom and I will have dinner alone! Go hungry, I don't care!"

Jim was acidic. "I know you don't care!"

"You really want me to be the bad guy, don't you Jim? Well _fine_!" Sinbad pointed the hilt of his scimitar "Because I can play the bad guy part _real_ well!"

"Yeah standing ovation!" Ruthlessly, Jim turned away. "Standing fucking ovation!"

"Hey!" Sinbad barked. "Don't turn your back on me!"

Jim whipped around. He stared heartlessly at his father and growled. Like a cyborg.

"Why not? You taught me."

Sinbad was disarmed. Completely.

Jim glared, _daring_ him to disagree. Sinbad did not. Surrendering for the first time in his life, Sinbad staggered to the crow's nest where Sarah was furiously untying her knots.

"Sinbad untie me! Right now! I swear to god if you don't, I am going to – "

"Okay, just – " Sinbad scaled the railing. The instant he lowered and was hidden from view, Sinbad pressed his eyes. "Just give me a minute."

Sarah faltered. The insult she'd prepared softened to guarded concern.

"Sinbad? Sinbad, what's wrong? Is it Jim?"

Sinbad massaged his temples. Hand sliding to his goatee, he weakly laughed. " _Is it Jim?_ Geeze. Last time you said that, Jim nearly bashed his brains out. Remember? The solar surfer? When he tried to fly the damn thing in his room?"

Sarah twitched, like she was withholding a smile. "Yes. I was with Delbert working on my calculus dissertation. You were supposed to be watching Jim."

"I was. We were plumbing. I was unclogging the drain, Jim was handing me tools. My head was under the sink, I couldn't see what he was doing. Suddenly, Jim goes ' _Dad can I use the wrench for a sec_?' I said ' _sure'_ and the next thing I knew, Jim and his solar surfer had crashed over my head!"

Sinbad clapped. He sliced up a hand. "Zip bam boom from his bedroom to the bathroom! Almost killed me! Almost killed himself! Kid annihilated our whole bathroom!"

Sarah could stop her smile. "We had to shower at Delbert's for three months."

"Ha!" Sinbad brightened. "I _remember_ that! Those were the fluffiest towels in the universe! I still dream about them. Quality towels – even though they were pink."

"Cranberry."

"Whatever, they were fluffy. Hey – I forgot Delbert wanted you to teach his class. What was it, astronomy?"

"Yes."

"Cause you were good at math right?"

"Yes."

"Nerd."

"Bandi – " Sarah stopped, catching the old, playful retort. Tightening her lips, she returned to the ropes knotted around her waist.

"Oh right. Da bondage." Sinbad crouched. Weaving around Sarah, he unraveled the knots. "Just a couple back here. Good thing I hitched these tight huh? Few more minutes you would have been loose."

"Don't flatter yourself." Sarah leaned slightly into his shoulder, facilitating the unknotting progress. "I'm out of practice."

"No sweat, princess. You'll have all the time in the world to refresh, now that we're a family agai – "

Sinbad halted midsentence, startled by his comment. He'd spoken about ' _family'_ as if the previous 10 years had never happened, as if he'd never mislaid Sarah or abandoned Jim.

Sinbad blinked. Kneeling, he pushed his bandana, flummoxed as a lost puppy. Then, as he had always done, Sinbad looked to Sarah for confirmation.

Sarah was crying. "What did you say?"

Sinbad couldn't help himself. Neither could Sarah. Leaning into a future unpredictable as the day they first met, Sinbad and Sarah kissed.

It was dawn before they stopped.

"Still hate me, princess?" Sinbad whispered, kissing snowflakes from her cheek.

Sarah confirmed. "So much, bandit. So, so much."

* * *

 **sultal's note: shout out to sionainn_dancer3** **for inspiring the "bandit" petname (via her suggestion of the song "Bandit for Life" for Sinbad).**

 **Song credits : "Fly Away" - Eminem, feat. Just Blaze**


	109. Chapter 109: The Cold --- Bothers Me

**Chapter 109: The Cold...** _ **Bothers**_ **Me**

"So…" Pitch flexed his fingers. He imagined them around the neck of every worthless villain. "They are gone? All of them? _Lord_ Hawkins? _Lady_ shadow worker? The Once and Future _King_?"

The villains shifted towards their weapons. The Vikings tensed. Each group prepared for a counter attack should Pitch decide to strike.

But Captain Hook was unintimidated. Lighthearted, even.

"Strong sentiment. Strong sentiment _indeed_. My apologize Pitch, I _thought_ that you and your nightmares were indestructible. However…"

Leisurely Captain Hook lit a cigar. Toxins seeped through his empty eye sockets as he blew. "It appears you can't contain a few scrawny brats. Well…aside from Peter Pan."

"And your mermaids," Pitch replied, as his nightmares surrounded Peter. "Lost _both_ Jim Hawkins and Wendy Darling, the two guardians I require."

"Dare I suggest— " Captain Hook said as Lana muttered disdainfully. "—that Wendy Darling's escape lies with Drago? At least, his ragtag Viking rebels?"

Drago pummeled his bullhook. The company he addressed was not large, but Drago bellowed. "Hiccup is to blame! Hiccup helped the shadow worker escape! Your mermaids were tricked by Stoick's crippled son!"

"And I suppose Hiccup rescued Arthur as well?" Ruber demanded, face convulsing like bag of worms. "Along with Schmendrick the Magician, and Sir Lionel's brat?"

"King Arthur is running north, all of the Otherland is after him." Drago squared to his shipmate. "They say Arthur, along with Lionel's brat, is fleeing to _Avalon_."

Ruber stiffened. His temple throbbed, triggering a tremor that rippled across his eyebrows.

"Avalon?"

Drago nodded, deadlocks swaying. "Avalon."

"What's Avalon?" Lana joined Captain Hook. Huffily she bumped a hip into Ariel's trident. "Why is Avalon _so_ important?"

"Avalon was created by King Arthur." Pitch replied. Summoning Peter with Jack's crooked staff, he continued. "Avalon was a safe haven, an enchanted wood. Avalon was created to protect two immortal sisters - Odette and Amalthea. Odette guarded Caliburn – Excalibur. Amalthea…"

Pitch clenched and unclenched Peter's hair.

"Amalthea." he finished. "Was Arthur's… _intended_. Arthur made Avalon to seal Amalthea from his enemies. Arthur made Avalon to repel the darkness. _Actually_ , Arthur made Avalon when he was nineteen. The _precise_ age…that he is _now_."

Pitch considered his last statement. After a dark contemplation, he murmured.

" _Past will be present again_ …"

Peter stirred as Pitch recited the prophetic line. The verse was a victorious one, and it roused Peter's memories of the Battle to Take Fantasia. The memories were triumphant. The memories were happy. Peter began to fight Pitch's influence. He spasmed and jerked, moving as if he were trying to climb out of his skin. Happy thoughts flickered against his shadow, but they were too frail to push free.

Pitch snapped. A nightmare whorled into Peter's brain.

"Arthur Pendragon must not reach Avalon." Pitch stretched his fingers over Peter's brow. When the boy was quiet, he continued. "The last time he made Avalon, the darkness disappeared. Oh, Arthur's kingdom was destroyed and his throne overcome; but the darkness disappeared for 100 years."

Pitch closed his eyes. He spoke in a hushed, deliberate tone, forcing the villains to attend to his every word.

"Should Arthur reach Avalon… and past be present again…before the Black Cauldron and Wishing Star are restored…before Jim Hawkins and Wendy Darling are in my hands …...we could be ruined…we could be ruined by the Once and Future King."

Silence.

Ruber was the first to raise his sword and the loudest to shriek.

"Then! To Avalon!"

"Aye, aye!" Merida suddenly answered, spraying arrows as Ariel pounced Lana, seized her trident and showered the gathering with electricity. The electrical currents blazed. Dragons scattered in frightened clusters, disorienting both the villains and nightmares. Precious seconds afforded, Ariel rushed for the Otherland – Merida, Robin, Tooth, and Bunny thundering behind.

"Race ye te Avalon!" Merida hollered, shooting an arrow behind her back. She high-fived Robin as the arrow hissed – hit – and ended in a wet, guttural scream. "Bullseye! Arthur here we come!"

The confusion curdled quickly into anger.

"And here _we_ come." Ruber stomped over Ariel's footprints. A legion of villains, Vikings, and dragons followed his. "Oh yes _King_ Arthur, here we do come! Drago! Hook! Off this way! To Avalon! We attack!"

"Actually." Captain Hook pried a whiskey bottle from Lana's charred hands. Ignoring Lana's furious splutters, he gallantly passed bottle to Pitch. "I think we'll explore different tactics. Pitch - perhaps this is an _ideal_ opportunity for Mr. Peter Pan?"

Pitch took the bottle. He popped the cork, thumped the base, twisted free the paper message, and read.

"So." Pitch's eyes reflected Marina's note. "Sinbad broke the rules did he?"

Captain Hook laughed. Pitch joined, and even the nightmares shuddered as he dangled Marina's message over Peter's nose.

"Mr. Pan." Pitch pointed over the sea. "Fetch."

* * *

 **… … … … … .. … … … … .. …. … .. … .. … … …**

* * *

Elsa was…

"Cold."

Two Black Cauldron fragments clattered from her hands. The noise was heavy and hollow, like the clang of a funeral bell. As the echo subsided, Elsa pressed both hands to her cheeks. They were _so cold_. Not numb (numbness would have been a blessing) but a sore, throbbing, cold.

Gingerly, Elsa touched the black fragments. The icy metal bit her skin but she lifted them regardless. The cold intensified. Her fingers ached. She could only imagine that icicles were pushing through her bones.

"But not my heart." Elsa whispered, extending the shards. "Not like Arthur's frozen heart. I can do this. I can do this. The cold…the cold never bothered me. The cold _doesn't_ bother me."

Hesitantly, Elsa held both shards over the Black Cauldron. She hovered, searching for a reciprocal piece. Thus far, the Black Cauldron was a feeble half of the whole. The fragments were frozen together by Elsa's magical ice, and the jagged jig-saw was shaping into a deep black belly.

The Black Cauldron was forming, taking shape. The black magic inside was healing.

Elsa was afraid. However, with every shard matched, and every match placed, her hope for King Arthur grew. So, ignoring the cold, Elsa rebuilt the Black Cauldron. Piece by piece. Shard by shard. Evil memories abound.

"Are you cold?"

Two hands, compassionate and tender, rubbed her shoulders. The comment was kind, meant to be sympathetic and warm, but for some reason Elsa shivered.

"Jack." Elsa stared into the icy floor. She focused on her white reflection, then to the dark shadow behind. "Just…just a little cold. I don't know why. I've never been cold before."

She shuddered as he squeezed. "Never."

Pitch smiled. He smoothed Elsa's braid. "Does it hurt, Elsa?"

"Hurt?"

"The cold."

Elsa gripped and ungripped, gauging her symptoms. "Only in my hands. I think."

"You think?"

"I think." Elsa probed her forehead. She brushed Pitch, and jerked away. He was cold _. So cold_.

"I think...my head." Elsa rotated, gently trying to maneuver her braid from Pitch. "My head is cold. Every thought ...hurts. But it's nothing compared…to what I did… to Arthur…"

Elsa covered her eyes. She tried to bury her tears, but they slipped away.

Pitch gazed. He lowered. And as he lowered, he slowly inhaled, saturating himself with her pain.

"It's a rare thing to see - you are one of those lucky ladies. Only the truly gorgeous ones are beautiful when they cry. And you are Elsa. You are."

Pitch drew Elsa against him. Snowflake tears sprinkled his robes as he breathed. "Fear and beauty. The curse of the Snow Queen. What better match...for the Nightmare King?"

Elsa tilted, unsure of what she heard. "What?"

"Nothing." Pitch glanced wickedly through the ice. As Jack Frost screamed, he stroked Elsa's hair. "You cry, my queen. After all, you killed King Arthur. Such are your powers - insurmountable to little kings and mortal men. Do not be ashamed."

Pitch paused. For a spark, he shared Elsa's sadness. He understood her longing to be accepted for what she was - a monster.

Pitch held. He sighed.

Then he whispered.

"Do not be ashamed of the darkness inside you. Believe in it. It is beautiful. It is strong. We are alike Elsa. And I have waited... _long_...for someone to believe...in me."

Elsa wept. She wept for Arthur. She wept for fear. And she wept because Pitch's hand was too cold on her back.

"Yes." Pitch purred, returning to his scheme. "Weep weary, but do not weep in vain. Soon I will have Fantasia's shadow worker, and _she_ will summon Arthur's soul from the Black Cauldron. And then…The King will return once more."

Elsa wiped crystal tears. "Shadow worker? Wendy? Jack, can Wendy _really_ help?"

Pitch raised his eyes to Jack, screaming soundlessly for Elsa through the ice. "Once I find her."

* * *

 **… … … … … .. … … … … .. …. … .. … .. … … …**

* * *

Pitch found Jack. His demand was clear.

"I want Wendy Darling. You want Elsa."

Pitch pointed with Jack's staff. The gnarled end disappeared into the snow.

"Fetch."

* * *

 **… … … … … .. … … … … .. …. … .. … .. … … …**

 **sultal's note: I had a few request WAY back in autumn to post pics of my characters with REAL pictures. I finally found 4 that I really liked for Peter, Wendy, Jim, and Ariel. Sorry it took WAY long - picture of the 'Big Four' on my Deviant Art page (sultal -wf) entitled "** The Big Four (Fantasia Series) "

 **And just saying, Peter Pan fans I think you will be pleased. I know I WAS (164%) and we all know how I feel about Peter - gotta give him credit, the dude is a looker.**


	110. Chapter 110: The Wimp Problem

**Chapter 110: The Wimp Problem**

Astrid wasn't taking any more chances. She was also being vindictive.

"Twist the stake in deeper Ruffnutt. Deeper. Come _on_ deeper, even _she'll_ be able to break free if you don't twist it in deeper! Just – "

Astrid shoved Wendy at Ruffnutt. Following a quick spit and lather, she ground Ruffnutt's improvised 'stake' earthward. The 'stake' was actually an oak bough, nearly thick as it was long, but Astrid drove it through the center of the planet.

The men (Hiccup, Snoutlout, Tuffnutt, and Fishlegs) watched. They did not offer to help.

But Hiccup _did_ cautiously object.

"Astrid um…we actually rescued Wendy. Remember?"

Astrid began strapping Wendy to the stake. "And?" she grunted.

"And…" Hiccup said as Astrid doubled knotted the ropes. The cords were already slicing into Wendy's wrists. "That technically means she's one of us. So maybe you could be nice? Don't blow I'm just saying -!"

Hiccup waved defensively. Astrid looked ready to eat him alive. He proceeded with care.

"I'm just saying that tying Wendy to a stake seems extreme. You're overcooking the girl-power thing. Wendy isn't dangerous. After all she saved Toothless. Right bud?"

Toothless nodded, but his enthusiasm faded as Astrid _and_ the other dragons snarled. Stormfly was tempted to roast Wendy raw.

"The _shadow worker_ hurt my dragon." Astrid said, alluding to Wendy's shadow working during the battle. "We still have over 100 miles to Berk, and I'm not sure Stormfly will be able to make it with her broken wing. Thanks to the _shadow worker_ , Fantasia's entire army attacked Stormfly when she was down."

"A tragic turn of events." Tuffnutt narrated melodramatically. "The hun _tress_ becomes the hun _ted_. Woebegone Astrid. Woebegone Stormfly. _Woebegone_. Continue scene…"

Astrid had already continued.

"Plus, _Hiccup_ , do I have to remind you that the shadow worker ripped Skullcrusher and Chief Stoick from the sky? Sure - I think Stoick was burned by dragon fire, but the shadow worker put him right in harms way! So – "

Astrid yanked Wendy's knots. "So if you want to keep her, then she stays on a leash! I don't want her lose around Stormfly! Get it?"

"How shall he answer?" Tuffnutt moaned, still pretending to narrate. "How shall young Hiccup answer his Viking princess in the face of ethical ambiguity?"

Hiccup answered: like a guy.

"Come on Astrid – "

"Doof it in your helmet." Astrid snapped. Joining her injured dragon, she retired for the night. "I'll keep first watch. It's starting to snow, so someone better stay up with me. This snow is blinding – we'll need two sets of eyes. One for our enemies. And one for _her_."

The Vikings consented.

But Hiccup remained.

Hiccup had mixed feeling for Wendy. Part of him resented her for Stoick's death. Astrid was right; Wendy _had_ dismounted Stoick with her shadow working, which ultimately lead to his death.

Deep down, Hiccup knew Wendy had been acting defensively. After all, the Vikings had attacked her country – she was probably following orders. Her actions weren't personal - they were survival.

As a warrior, Hiccup understood these truisms. But it was hard to separate the warrior from the little boy – Hiccup missed his father. And if there was one thing Vikings cherished more than their helmets, it was family. Dragons included.

 _Dragons included_.

Hiccup leaned against Toothless, relieving the pressure between his amputated and prosthetic limb. There was a second, snarled layer to his guilt: Wendy saved Toothless. That was an _enormous_ debt Hiccup doubted he could ever repay.

"Well I know where I should start." Hiccup muttered, eyeing Wendy's bound wrists. "But…"

Hiccup glanced back. Astrid was already glaring. So was Stormfly. Conscious unsettled, Hiccup stood dumbly between Astrid and Wendy, trying to decide what to do.

Astrid made the decision for him.

" _Boyfriend_." Astrid nodded darkly to her side. "You coming or what? Forget the shadow worker – if something tries to eat her, we're no worse off. At least her screaming will sound the alarm."

"Awesome!" Tuffnutt popped up (he was using Belch as a pillow). "I gotta stay awake for this!"

"Dido!" Ruffnutt popped up (she was using Barf as a pillow). "What color do you think her intestines are?"

"Probably pinkish. She looks healthy. Maybe a purple tinge."

"Fleshy and juicy."

"Like yak sausages."

"Yum."

Barf and Belch licked their lips. The twins heckled, bonked helmets, and went to sleep. Wendy made a noise that was lost in the wind. But she sounded miserable.

And she looked miserable. Actually she looked _worse_ than miserable – she looked ill.

Backing slowly towards Astrid, Hiccup studied Wendy. The Vikings had taken shelter under a ledge, and Astrid had tethered Wendy to the outskirts. Per consequence, Wendy was exposed to the snowstorm. There were snowflakes in her hair and crystals across her lashes. But she wasn't shivering. She looked warm. Her cheeks were red; her brow was glistening; and her eyes were glassy, almost like they were boiling.

Hiccup suddenly realized: Wendy was still injured. The wounds on her fingers and stomach were hot and inflamed. Judging by the crusty puss on her fingers, they were infected too.

Moreover, Wendy had never ridden a dragon before, and the bumpy ride couldn't have agreed with the beer Lana made her drink. Hiccup reassessed – _oh yeah. Wendy definitely looked ready to puke._

"Hey gang." Hiccup called. He waited, as the Vikings peaked from their helmets. "Maybe we should head out tonight. It's only 100 more miles to Berk, we can make it by daybreak. Wendy doesn't look too good, I think she needs to see Gothi immedia – "

"Hiccup!" Snoutlout threw his hammer. Astrid followed with her axe, and they smashed en route. "Hiccup shut up! There are nightmares, shadows, dragons, undead goonies, ferngullians and Thor knows what out there! We're tired! – "

"We're hungry!"

" We're grouchy!"

"Ruff is smelly."

"Tuff is seriously shedding."

" Shut up!"

"Goodnight!"

"And get your butt over here before we break up!" Astrid slouched irritably against Stormfly's hide. "For the love of Thor! I might say no when you propose."

"Pro…pose?" Hiccup turned. His amputated limb twisted too quickly for his prosthetic and he almost tripped.

"For the love of Thor." Astrid punched the ground. "Just get over here."

Hiccup gawked. Toothless gave him a generous nudge. Hiccup smiled a tiny, lovesick smile as the pang for his father became a little more bearable.

"Take care of Wendy, okay bud?" Hiccup scratched Toothless' chin. "I'll make sure Astrid doesn't kill her before we takeoff for Berk. Ya don't mind, do you? Keep Wendy safe? Just for tonight?"

Toothless was only too happy to comply! Sighing sweetly as Hiccup settled with Astrid, Toothless joined Wendy and prepared for bed. Turning a small circle, he charred the ground and snuggled into the flames. Once the fire was matted, Toothless curled a wing over Wendy and snuggled.

"Puh. My Thor. "Astrid crossed both legs over Hiccup's. She glowered over their three boots and one peg. "You told Toothless to protect her didn't you?"

Hiccup shrugged. He inched an arm around Astrid's shoulders. "Yeah."

"My Thor." Astrid repeated. She scowled but allowed Hiccup's arm to remain. "A chief protects his _own_ , Hiccup. Not others."

Hiccup coaxed Astrid nearer. For a moment he just held, fingers scrunching in and out of her braid. Astrid had quoted Stoick. Hiccup could almost hear his father echoing her words: _'A chief protects his own, Hiccup. A chief protects his own.'_

"Fair. Wendy isn't a Viking." Hiccup twirled an ankle, relieving the pressure of Astrid's leg over his. "But she _saved_ Toothless. She protected my dragon without any other reason than he was lost and needed to find his home. I can never give back what she gave me. You know?"

Astrid was quiet. Hiccup vigorously rubbed. "You'd feel the same with Stormfly, right?"

Stormfly raised her head. She groaned affectionately as Astrid stroked her warm flank.

"Guess so." Astrid finally replied.

"Sure you would." Hiccup capitalized on Astrid's leniency. "And think about this – Wendy just helped us escape! We would have _never_ gotten away without her. Meatlug, Barf, Belch, Hookfang, Toothless, _and_ Stormfly would _still_ be mesmerized by Drago's spell. But they're not. Out dragons are safe, we're almost to Berk…and it's kinda all because of Wendy."

Hiccup thought back to his adventure in Avalon. Bitterness resigning, he sighed. "I still hate Fantasia for murdering The King. But that wasn't Wendy's fault. And…she doesn't seem like a dragon killer to me. She's just scared. And alone. She's…just a kid. Just like us."

Astrid contemplated.

"Not exactly like us." Astrid pointed with her axe. "Aren't you surprised she hasn't escaped yet?"

"What?"

"She's a shadow worker. Basically she can pull apart shadows, right? Torture people and dragons? Somehow possess the mind?"

The scientific gears in Hiccups brain whorled through possible hypotheses. "Basically. I guess. Not really sure how it works but yeah." Hiccup analyzed Wendy with newfound interest. "Shadow working seems related to manipulating shadows and entering the mind."

"Then why hasn't she escaped?" Astrid motioned to the slumbering dragons. "We are surrounded by fire breathing dragons. There is plenty of light to cast shadows."

Astrid frowned. She regarded Wendy not with malice, but confusion. "She floored Chief Stoick's dragon. That's pretty powerful. Now, we're basically holding her captive. So why hasn't she shadow worked us? Why hasn't she tried to escape?"

Hiccup hadn't answer. But he had to admit: it was a really good question.

"I don't know." he said truthfully, gazing at Wendy as she slept beneath Toothless' wing. "I really don't know."

"Puh. Well you know what I think?" Astrid slid a thumb over her axe. The edge rang as she traced the blade. "I think someone needs a lesson in girl power."

* * *

 **… … … … … .. … … … … .. …. … .. … .. … … …**

* * *

Wendy nightmared.

Oh. Did Wendy _nightmare_. There were nightmares folded inside nightmares; nightmares chasing her between nightmares; and nightmares multiplying into nightmares.

But only one nightmare reoccurred, and it was one she'd had before. It was the nightmare where Captain Hook gutted her stomach – but this time, she was bearing Peter's child. Not the girl. The boy. The boy named Peter Michaleen. And every time Captain Hook ripped open her belly button, Wendy felt the baby die.

So when she awoke, Wendy remembered begging for Peter. Her arousals were infrequent, and her awareness was distorted by fever. She thrashed and screamed. Blurry, unfamiliar voices spoke from blurry, unfamiliar faces as she was carried – rested – restrained – undressed – nursed –

Then it stopped. The nightmares unraveled. Her fever cooled. Sounds separated into noises. Thoughts cleared from the bog.

Wendy opened her eyes.

"Where…am I?"

Wendy was in Berk; twelve days north of Hopeless, a few degrees south of Freezing to Death, located solidly on the Meridian of Misery, smack dab in the middle of Dragon Country (at least, those were the local coordinates).

Of course, Wendy was none the wiser. But she assumed Hiccup had taken her to his home. It was an easy assumption. Her surroundings were very…Viking.

She'd been rest in a bed, and the bed was huge. The mattress was stiff and swamped with heavy furs. There wasn't a pillow. The thick wooden frames were engraved with intricate tribal symbols.

The bedroom itself could have doubled as an armory; shields lined the walls, weapons occupied every corner, and a forge-sized fire burned. Like the bed, the wood-iron furnishings looked very uncomfortable and suitable for giants.

It was the threadbare room of warrior, not a hostess. Wendy felt like a prisoner. The only heartening discrepancy was a band of blue, orange, and yellow paint that someone had painted along walls. The colors had been painted in a braided pattern. It was simple and bright - Wendy found that comforting.

"Hello?" Wendy propped on an elbow. Her head swam, but she continued upright. "Is anyone… _oh_."

She was naked. Almost naked – she'd been stripped to her undergarments (garter included), but for Wendy that qualified as naked. Clutching the fur blanket, Wendy immediately looked bedside for her clothes –

She came face to face with an ancient, hunchedback Viking woman.

"Oh." Wendy repeated, this time more vigorously. She held the blankets higher as the Viking woman leaned on her staff and smiled with big, buggy eyes. "Who are – "

"That's Gothi." Astrid suddenly rose from a massive wooden rocker. "And to answer your first question, you are in Berk."

Wendy wrapped the fur blanket behind her back. She hadn't noticed Astrid and was embarrassed. "Have you been there all this time?"

Astrid nodded. She was still wearing a blend of traditional Viking garb and army camo, but had added war paint to her getup. The warpaint was blue, orange, and yellow – just like the decorative paint on the walls.

"Yes. I've been here the whole time." Astrid stood across Gothi, guarding the opposite side of the bed. "This is _my_ room."

Astrid's tone was less than hospitable.

"Where are my clothes?" Wendy demanded.

Astrid snuffed. She jerked her head to the hearth. "There."

"Where?"

"There."

"Where?"

"Oh my Thor, see that fire? Over _there_."

"Fire –? " Wendy gaped at the crackling flames. "Did you _burn_ my clothes?"

"Bingo."

"You – ! You – ! Why would you -?!" Wendy's incredulity was inexpressive. Had she not been naked (almost naked), she would have jumped out of bed and trialed her left hook. " _Why_ on _earth_ would you – "

"Oh sweeeeet!" Ruffnutt slumped into the room. The spindly antlers on her helmet scraped the doorway. "Nice work Gothi! The wimp lives!"

"Wimp?" Wendy strangled the blanket. "I _beg_ your pard – "

"In case you haven't noticed." Astrid interrupted. "Gothi healed your wounds. So before you get all prissy, say thank you."

Wendy paused. Ignoring the insults, she looked down at her fingers. Astrid was right – they were healed. Completely. Tentatively Wendy peeked under the blanket. Glancing irritably as Ruffnutt snickered, she probed her stomach. The punctures from Ariel's trident were gone. They hadn't even scarred. There were no more dragon burns; no more scrapes; no more scratches; no more bruises. Save for her SHADOW WORKER scar, Wendy's skin was pearly smooth.

Wendy turned to Gothi. She was so incredibly humbled.

"Was it…Gothi?"

Gothi nodded. That was her name.

"Thank you Gothi." Wendy said. Nightmare still fresh in her memory, she held her stomach under the furs. "Gothi I – that was so kind. I don't know how to thank you other than saying…thank you."

Gothi was pleased. And a little smug. Reaching into her satchel, Gothi produced a jug of sand and poured the contents onto the floor. Wendy was surprised, but Astrid and Ruffnutt immediately leaned as Gothi began scratching symbols in the sand with her staff.

Wendy waited. Gothi wrote. Astrid and Ruffnutt read.

"Gothi says ' _you're welcome_.'" Astrid finally said, translating Gothi's script in the sand. Gothi tapped her staff and Astrid halfheartedly continued. "She also wants to know if you want your heart fixed. Some people do, some people don't, but it's your decision."

"My heart?" Wendy's chest pound. "Something is wrong with my heart? What? What's wrong with it?"

"Broken." Astrid replied as Gothi underlined a symbol. She gave Wendy a critical glare. " _Apparently_ your heart is broken. Figures."

"Broken?" Wendy beseeched Gothi. "How?"

"How do you think?" Ruffnutt smooched air. "By a boy."

"…oh."

Wendy sat back. She felt her garter under the furs, thought of Peter, and…couldn't respond. The Vikings stared. To break the silence, Wendy quietly offered, "I…didn't know a broken heart…could be mended. Is that…magic?"

Gothi wrote in the sand. Astrid translated.

"No. It's medicine. Gothi can cure all sorts of nontraditional illnesses: scaredy cats (fear), stomach butterflies (stage fright), yellow bellies (cowardice), shrinking violet's (shyness), chips on shoulders (grudges), daydreamers, lead foot, cold feet, writer 's block, homesickness, broken hearts…."

Astrid walked briskly to her closet before finishing. "….nightmares."

Wendy bit her lip. She looked timidly at Gothi as Astrid rummaged through her closet. "I…that's very kind of you Gothi. But my heart is fine. I'm fine…He's – "

"What Gothi can't cure – " Astrid reappeared, dumping a bundle on Wendy's lap. "Is your wimp problem."

Her broken heart was forgotten.

" _Excuse_ me?" Wendy twisted her nose at the bundle. Astrid had brought her clothes – at least, they resembled clothes. "My _what_?"

"Your wimp problem!" Ruffnutt replied helpfully. She began fishing through the clothes. "And girl, you've got a big one! Probably took years to develop! Right Gothi?"

Gothi agreed. Wimp problems – there was only one way to cure them. And the cure was not medicinal.

Cue Astrid.

"Move it shadow worker. Get dressed. Drago is still hunting for us – it's only a matter of time before someone figures out were are in Berk. Hiccup wants to leave by tomorrow, so we've got a lot of work to do."

Astrid yanked the blankets. Wendy's protests were muffled as Ruffnutt pulled a bear-skin smock over her head. She followed with leather wraps, ratty sashes, and iron clasps, slowly transforming Wendy into a Viking. Gothi measured Wendy's foot for boots (with her staff), and Astrid sourly supervised.

"Hiccup trusts you, shadow worker. So Ruff and I are going to teach you to be mean. But first…" Astrid glanced derisively at Wendy's blue bow. "You gotta lose the skirt."

* * *

 **... ... ...**

 **sultal's note: Per this story's "No OC Policy" - Gothi is the "elder" in HTTYD. Go Gothi.**

 **And btw - I think I was suppose to say this a while ago (sorry!) but this story hit 10K reads (obviously across all the chapters)! Thnx guys!**


	111. Ch 111: Eating, Drinking, and Doofing

**Chapter 111: Eating, Drinking, and Doofing**

The Viking ' _makeover'_ was a nightmare and Wendy was NOT exaggerating. She was a shadow worker – she knew a nightmare when she saw it – and THAT had ABSOLUTELY been a NIGHTMARE!

For one: Vikings had _zero_ conception of modesty. They threw on, threw off, poked here, poked there, pushed, shoved, buckled, unbuckled, laced, unlaced, zipped, unzipped, loosened, tightened, and tightened some more. By the time they were finished, Wendy felt raw and indecent.

For another: Vikings had _zero_ conception of vanity. Viking fashion consisted of four textiles: leather, fur, camo, and chain mail. Viking footwear was singular: boots. Everyone wore big, clunky, ridiculously oversized boots.

Wendy was no exception. Her outfit was horrendous, and her temper was dressed for the part. Ruffnutt had forced her into a bearskin leather smock that Wendy couldn't decide was grey, green, black, or brown until Ruffnutt suggested it was the color of ' _poor digestion_.'

Lovely.

It got worse.

The smock came with accessories – a furry waistband and iron plated belt. The furry waistband was grungy (Wendy was sure there were insets living in the lining); and the iron belt was too long. Astrid solved the problem by crisscrossing the leftover belt into an "X" across her chest. Wendy felt constricted, but apparently the iron plates would shield her against stab wounds to the heart.

Lovely again.

And it got even worse.

Astrid and Ruffnutt were too tall, so Wendy was wearing 'child size leggings.' The leggings stopped at her shins, but those were covered with cloth and string. As Astrid and Ruffnutt wrapped, Wendy noticed that the Vikings wore lots of layers – most of which seemed unnecessary. So Wendy voiced her opinion. Astrid told her to shut up – Gothi poked Wendy with her staff – and Ruffnutt said "Well hair ribbons are unnecessary too!"

Lovely times three.

Then came the worst of all.

Ruffnutt wanted to burn her hair ribbon. Wendy _vehemently_ refused.

"Fine." Ruffnutt handed Wendy massive combat boots. "But it makes you look like a wimp. Second only to Hiccup. But you're pretty close. Ya know…"

Ruffnutt pleasantly gestured. "Especially with that flouncy hair. And flouncy accent. And flouncy flounce. Oh yeah – I agree with Astrid."

Ruffnutt bore her teeth as Astrid smirked. "You've got a _serious_ wimp problem."

Well.

By the end of the 'fashion show' Wendy was _more_ than a little vexed.

" _Wimp problem._ Well someone sat on her own axe..."

Wendy grumbled behind crossed arms. Astrid and Ruffnutt had 'ordered' her to follow Gothi to an undisclosed location, which _added_ to Wendy's vexation.

"Probably another prison." Wendy muttered, descending a deep stairwell. Again she was irritated – like everything else in Berk, the stairs were just a hair too big, but enough to make the journey challenging. She had to jump and hike to keep pace.

Stomping down the last step, Wendy entered a stone hall. She paused. The hall was high as the sky and adorned with silver stained glass. Statues of Viking chiefs guarded the entrance; swords, axes, and spears clasped firmly beneath their bearded chins.

Wendy was awed. But as she admired, Gothi prodded with her staff.

"I'm _coming_." Wendy said. Ushered along by Gothi, she cast a final, reverent gaze across the hall. The Viking chiefs gazed back. It was silly, but before leaving, Wendy gave a tiny, respectful nod.

Gothi smiled. Clattering her staff, she led Wendy into Berk.

Berk.

The Viking Stronghold, Home of the Hairy Hooligans, Armpit of the Otherland. Since the dawn of dragons, Hiccup would claim ' _life on Berk was amazing_.' And Wendy would have to agree, despite her frustrations.

The village itself was cramped on a razor sharp cliff, but the razor sharp cliff was surrounded by wide open spaces. Beyond the wide open spaces were spines of wild, frigid mountains. Wendy could envision the dragons racing to the mountains and stretching their wings across the sky.

Villagers lived in sturdy huts with triangular archways. The huts were simply designed, but trimmed with technological accouterments, including windmills, catapults, forges, and periscopes. The huts reminded Wendy of tinker toys. It was an engineer's dream.

Jim would love to explore this place.

"Jim."

Wendy crossed a scaffolding bridge. As they approached a blacksmithing forge, she murmured worriedly to her best friend. "Jim…please be alright."

"Hey. Wendy, you're up."

Hiccup ducked from the blacksmithing entrance. He smiled at Wendy, soot under his chin and crutch under his arm. Surprised by the crutch, Wendy looked down. Hiccup's legs were asymmetrical. The left was shorter, amputated below the knee. His metal prosthesis was gone.

Wendy's motherly instincts overrode her indignation.

"Your leg! It's – "

"Inside." Hiccup motioned to the forge smoking behind him. "The socket was pinching, I think we bashed it pretty good during the escape! I just have to flatten the dents, revamp the shock pad, and elongate the titanium keel. I know you've gotta be starving, but can you wait a sec?"

Wendy blinked. "You're going to do what?"

"Fix my peg leg." Hiccup simplified. "Do you mind waiting with Gothi?"

 _Did she mind? As in, did she mind being manhandled by Astrid and Ruffnutt? As in, did she mind being wacked by the midget medicine woman's staff? As in, did she mind imprisonment?_

Wendy was a little tart. "Do I have a choice?"

Hiccup smiled sympathetically. "Sure you have a choice. But I wouldn't recommend traveling the Otherworld alone. Plus, I know Toothless wants to see you and I'd _definitely_ like to talk. And, as I said, you must be hungry. Right?"

Wendy's stomach growled. She covered it defensively, but Hiccup had already heard.

"I'll only be a sec. Don't run away just yet." Hopping nimbly on his crutch, Hiccup whistled for Toothless. "Bud! Wendy's here!"

 _FLUMP!_

Toothless plopped from the roof. He yapped like a puppy and showered Wendy with sticky kisses.

Hiccup winked at Gothi. "If that doesn't improve her mood I don't know what will." He returned to Gobber's forge. "Welcome to Berk, Wendy Shadow Worker. Welcome to Berk."

* * *

… …. ….. …. … … … … … .. .. … … … … …. … . … …

* * *

Hiccup was similar to Ariel in one regard:

It was very hard to hate him. Hiccup was strikingly humble, astoundingly sensible, a little geeky, and had the most _adorable_ , genuine smile.

However, Hiccup was also a Viking – so Wendy tried hate him.

It was _very_ hard. And in the end she failed.

"I wish you could see Berk at it's best!" Hiccup said, overturning a bucket for Wendy to sit.

He'd brought her to the Dragon Training Arena, and Toothless had supplied a small fire for dinner. The cuisine was bland and basic: Raw mackerel for the dragons. Oatmeal, pretzels, and beef jerky for the Vikings. And Wendy.

Hiccup stirred oatmeal in a bubbling pot. Crouching on his repaired prosthetic, he detailed. "Right now Berk is a little quiet. We just evacuated all the children to Dragon's Edge. Dragon's Edge is a day's flight that way – "

Hiccup pointed into the setting sun. "That's where the rest of the gang are. I sent Snoutlout, Tuffnutt, and Fishlegs there yesterday. Astrid and Ruffnutt are sweeping the perimeter until they get back. Luckily it stopped snowing so Tuff, Snoutlout, and Fishlegs should be here soon….Ha! Maybe we should pray for snow then, right?!"

Hiccup waited for Wendy to laugh at his joke. She didn't. Toothless did, but Wendy regarded him with cold courtesy.

"Funny." she finally said, looking the other way. "Very."

Hiccup was uncomfortable. He didn't know what to say, so he apologized. "Sorry, Wendy."

Wendy turned. She seemed startled every time Hiccup said her name. But she also seemed to soften.

Wendy gazed at Hiccup. Then she sighed. Tiredly rubbing her forehead, she murmured "I just want to go home."

"What?" Hiccup tapped his ear. "Sorry – again. I didn't hear. You…?"

"Nothing." Wendy adjusted on her bucket. "It was a silly, impractical thing to say. I don't even know where home is anymore. Underworld…Fantasia….Pirate's Point…Skywor— "

Wendy stopped. She was tempted end the unfinished statement with ' _whatever_ ,' but decided against Jim's scapegoat. "I suppose right now... Berk is good a place as any."

"Well. Life on Berk _is_ amazing." Hiccup passed Wendy a pretzel bag. "And once this war is over, it's going to get even better. Now that I'm chief, there _will_ be peace and I'm going to start a School of Dragon. Here, hold out your hands."

"Wait. I'm sorry – you're what now that what?" Wendy cupped her hands quickly as Hiccup poured pretzels from the bag. His last comment had been packed with information, and Wendy was still metabolizing. "Wait a moment. One thing at a time – are you the chief?"

" _Now_ I am." Hiccup withdrew the bag. He pretended to search through the pretzels. "I'm not letting Drago take over Berk, that's for sure."

Toothless snorted.

"Tell me about it." Hiccup said.

"So, that Viking?" Wendy started to feel sick. "That big Viking with the big dragon? The chief? Chief Stoick? The one that I...tore down. The one with the green and red dragon?"

"Rumblehorn dragon." Hiccup softly corrected. "Skullcrusher."

Wendy felt disgusting. But still, she spoke. "Chief Stoick was your father."

Hiccup breathed. Slowly he nodded. "Was. Now he's in Valhalla, waiting for me to make him proud."

Wendy lowered her hands. Pretzels spilled into her lap. Anguished, she remembered Arthur, his finger trailing Chief Stoick across the battlefield. She could hear Arthur's desperate command:

 _"Wendy I need you get that red and green dragon, right now! It's rider is Chief Stoick – leader of the Vikings! If we can capture Stoick we might be able to get them to stop! Okay?"_

"I…Hiccup." Wendy shook her head. She'd lost both parents, and understood that apologies hurt. But she was tormented with guilt: she had to say _something_.

"Hiccup – I don't know what to – I don't know how to – I am _so sorry_. Arthur told me we were going to _capture_ Chief Stoick. Arthur is kind – I never expected him to kill."

Hiccup gently cleared his throat. "Who's Arthur?"

"King Arthur." Wendy quickly amended, "Arthur is king of Fantasia. Hiccup I – I don't know how to make this better. I have no idea how to – "

"You don't have to." Hiccup straightened. "And you don't have to for two reasons. First, your king didn't kill my dad. My dad was killed by dragon fire. Drago told a big, fat lie. Astrid I think Drago was the murderer."

"And second." Hiccup's voice lightened. "You saved my dragon. Twice. Toothless means more to me than anything in the world. _Anything_. We're invincible together and impossible apart. Wendy, you _gave_ me back my best friend. Literally, my other leg…"

Hiccup touched Toothless' nose as one might hold a holy book. Gravely, he vowed, "Wendy Shadow Worker, I am indebted to you. You, your children, and your children's children are forever beholden to my home. Consider your bloodline protected by mine."

Wendy. Was. Stunned.

"I…" she finally managed. "Only fed him fish sticks."

They laughed. Toothless thumped his tail happily as Hiccup tossed Wendy a Viking helmet.

"Cool speech, huh? Very fancy, Thor and Odin probably wrote the script! But speaking of fish sticks I am starving! Here, hold out that helmet – "

Wendy obeyed. The helmet was old. The metal was kinked, and the curly white ram-horns were chipped. But the helmet was shinny – Hiccup had obviously scrubbed it clean.

"Helmet upside-down." Hiccup ordered, ladling the oatmeal.

Wendy was confused, but she flipped the helmet. "Like this? Is this how – Hiccup what are you doing?"

"Oatmeal alamode!" Hiccup announced, scooping oatmeal into Wendy's helmet. As Wendy gawked, he similarly served himself, bullhorn helmet propped like a bowl. "Feel free to spice it with beef jerky. Ruff and Tuff taught me that trick."

Wendy almost laughed. She lifted her helmet. "Don't you wear these on your _heads_?"

"Multipurpose." Hiccup grinned, sprinkling beef jerky into his oatmeal. "Helmets double as bowls, goblets, baseballs – "

"But you wear them on your heads!" Wendy pressed. "Hiccup you wear helmets on your _heads_!"

Hiccup playfully scratched his hair. "Lice and scabies are nutritious."

" _Lice_ and _scabies_?"

"Protein."

"That's horrid." Wendy smiled. Tentatively, she sampled the oatmeal.

"Wait till you see Tuff." Hiccup watched eagerly for Wendy's reaction. "He uses his helmet for eating, drinking, _and_ doofing."

" _Pfffuuusthth_!" Oatmeal sprayed from Wendy's mouth. She laughed so hard, a grain or two dribbled from her nose.

"Toothless!" Hiccup batted as Wendy laughed. "Toothless don't eat it!"

It came to pass: the first friendship between a Fantasian and Otherlander. They shared company. They shared stories. They shared bread (oatmeal, pretzles, and beef jerky).

They gave each other a chance.

Then Hiccup asked Wendy about the shadows.

And a seed was planted for future growth.


	112. Chapter 112: School of Shadow

**Chapter 112: School of Shadow**

"So where is School of Shadow?"

"School of Shadow?" Wendy licked oatmeal from her fingers. It was unladylike, but after all she _was_ in Berk– no sense in offending the host with table manners. "What do you mean School of Shadow?"

"I mean your school." Hiccup flashed his hands, alluding to Wendy's shadow working. "Where did you learn shadow working? How long have you been a student? What sort of classes do you – "

"Now wait just a moment!" Wendy curtailed Hiccup's questions. "I went _to Fantasia School for the Magically Skewed_ , just like everybody else! That's a normal sort of school. We learn the basics – math, grammar, biology, astronomy. I was actually pre-med before this shadow working ordeal happened. There is no School of Shadow."

Hiccup looked crushed, stunned, and enthralled. "There's no School of Shadow?"

"Correct. There's no School of Shadow."

"At all?"

"Not that I'm aware of."

"Huh…" Hiccup dug his spoon methodically into his cheek. He stared at Wendy, oblivious to Toothless picking beef jerky from his oatmeal. "Interesting…so no School of Shadow? You didn't go to school for shadow working?"

"Well it's not the most _tasteful_ of career paths!" Wendy teased, although she was perturbed by Hiccup's intrigue. "Or rewarding. Shadow working is…Well, when I was chosen, my classmates tried to drown me."

"That I can understand." Hiccup admitted. "Shadow working is pretty mysterious. It's only natural for us to be afraid. I mean you scared the living daylights out of us! Astrid wanted to kill you with Thor's hammer."

"Charming."

"So if there's no School of Shadow…" Hiccup restated, _clearly_ infatuated with the idea. "Then where did you get your training? Was it an apprenticeship? You know, like Gobber training me to be a blacksmith?"

Wendy laughed weakly. " _That_ would have been lovely, wouldn't it? No again, I'm afraid. The last full-fledged shadow worker was a warlock named Yen Sid. I never met him. Yen Sid's apprentice – Headmaster Mickey – knew very little about shadow working. I've just been…learning as I go."

Wendy shrugged. She considered the explanation a dull ending to her shadow working tale.

But Hiccup was captivated.

" _Really_?" Hiccup's voice cartwheeled with excitement. "So it's just you? You're the only shadow worker in Fantasia?"

"No." Wendy answered. "There is another shadow worker named Facilier. Facilier's powers are different than mine. But we were both chosen by the Magic Bag of Tricks – "

"Different than yours? What do you mean Facilier's powers are different than yours?"

Wendy reclined slightly. Hiccup was practically drooling with interest.

"Facilier can control his own shadow, but _only_ his." Wendy pointed to her shadow, stretched across the sunset. "I can't control my shadow. However, I can manipulate the shadows of other people. And…" Wendy added as Toothless nudged her knee. "The shadows of dragons and animals, it seems."

Hiccup bounced with enthusiasm. "And _who_ chose you to be a shadow worker?"

"Not a who – a what. When I was fifteen, I picked an enchanted needle, thread, and thimble from the Magic Bag of Tricks. They helped me to – "

"What's the Magic Bag of Tricks?"

"An upside-down hat that grants magical powers or magical items when students pick from – "

"And how long you been shadow working, again?"

"Since I was fifteen."

"So like a year?"

" _Six_ years! I'm twenty one!"

"Really? Twenty one? You look about twelve."

"Hiccup!"

"Sorry, you're just so short!"

"You're a _tree_!"

Toothless chuckled. He rummaged Hiccup's helmet and stole more beef jerky.

Hiccup couldn't have cared less. His inventor's mind was ticking and his imagination was soaring. Aside from his role as Dragon Trainor, Hiccup was _also_ responsible for researching new species of dragons, and cataloging them in his book (The Book of Dragons). As far as Hiccup was concerned, Wendy was an unidentified species.

And it was time to explore.

Hiccup was a _little_ overzealoused. Just a skosh.

"This – is – _amazing_! This is amazing! Wendy!" Hiccup wrung his hair. "This is AMAZING!"

"It….?" Wendy watched perplexedly as Hiccup rounded the fire. "It is? Oh dear - "

Hiccup seized Wendy's hand and brought it straight to his nose. As he inspected, Toothless peered over his shoulder.

"You are Fantasia's only shadow worker!" Hiccup studied Wendy's follicles like a scientist. "Wendy, the possibilities – _your_ possibilities – are endless! Think of all you could learn! I bet you don't know a _thing_ about shadow working, do you?"

Before Wendy could answer, Hiccup sniffed her palm. Then he pressed hard with a thumb, blanching the skin. When her color returned, Hiccup offered Wendy's hand to Toothless.

"Have a lick bud. Does it taste any different than mine?"

"Ew Hiccup!" Wendy squirmed. "Toothless don't!"

Toothless did. He left Wendy with a handful of saliva, and Hiccup with his answer. _Yes. Tastes a little different. Bit like black licorice._

(Of course, Toothless was non-verbal. All Toothless could do was (1) nod and (2) sample Wendy's hand again, indicating that her flavor was (1) different and (2) not unpleasant).

Hiccup inferred – and he became more excited.

"So _that's_ why you haven't attack us! _That's_ why you haven't escaped!" Hiccup rotated Wendy's hand. He wiggled it across his shadow. "You don't know how to use your magic!"

Wendy was offended.

"Yes I do _too_ know how to use my magic! And I wouldn't call it _magic_!" Wendy unpried their hands. "I'd call it a curse! Shadow working is – "

"An untapped resource!" Hiccup exclaimed. "Wendy, NO ONE knows ANYTHING about shadow working! There aren't any books about shadow working. Think about it – wouldn't you have liked a _textbook_ about shadow working? Wouldn't _guidelines_ have been helpful?"

"Textbook?" Wendy donned a didactic tone. "Hiccup, you can't have a textbook on shadow working! That's ridiculous!"

"Why?"

"Because shadow workers have different powers. There are no rules. Everything is ambiguous."

"Is that a fact?"

"Of course it's a fact! As I told you, Facilier and I have different – "

"But is that a FACT?" Hiccup repeated, emphasizing the last word. "You're basing everything on what you _think you know_ about two shadow workers – you and Facilier. Wendy _you don't know what you don't know_! Maybe shadow workers are _actually_ sorted into those that control their _own_ shadows and _other_ shadows! Maybe there's a third category – shadow workers that control _both_!"

Hiccup waved excitedly. "You just need to do your research! The more shadow workers you find, the more data you'll get, the easier it will be to establish patterns! BUT – you have to EXPERIMENT! You have to EXPLORE!"

"And where am I going to find these _mysterious_ populations of shadow workers?" Wendy snapped, "You keep forgetting that Facilier and I are the only two shadow workers, and we do NOT get along!"

Hiccup was ready. "Your children."

"My what?"

"Have children, pass on your powers, see what they can do. Dragons do the same thing. It's called genetics. You gotta boyfriend or anything? Get experimenting! Snoutlout would probably breed if you wanted."

"That's disgusting!"

"Joking, joking! Still…"

"Hiccup." Wendy frowned. "This conversation is _entirely_ poor taste, even by Viking standards. Shadow working a _burden_ that I _only_ use when necessary, and _only_ for good. Nothing more, nothing – "

"But it doesn't _have_ to be a burden!" Hiccup insisted. "Shadow working can be your legacy! Shadow working can be the footprint you leave for others to follow! Wendy – if I had kids, I would send _all_ of them to a School of Shadow!"

"Stop being silly! You can't go to school to become shadow worker!"

"I wouldn't send them to _become_ shadow workers," Hiccup revised. "I would send them to learn _about_ shadows, so they could survive a shadow attack! Think about it – if Astrid had known you were a shadow worker before the battle, she could have saved Stormfly from getting hurt! Right?"

"Well…"

"What are the facts about shadows?" Hiccup counted on his hands. "One – shadows can be manipulated by shadow workers. That's a solid fact. Right?"

"Yes. But…"

"Two – " Hiccup twirled a finger over his head. "Shadows make you go crazy. Right?"

"Not exactly." Wendy reluctantly corrected. "Shadows find unhappy thoughts. They control the mind with sadness and fear. I think."

"Really? Cool! So what's the counter?"

"What's the what?"

"How do you deflect a shadow?" Hiccup tapped his forehead. "So, if you were controlling my shadow, is there a way I could fight back? Is there a way I could knock you out of my head?"

Again, Wendy was unsure. "Well…I use happy thoughts. But the happy thought needs to be _extremely_ happy."

"Does time of day make a difference?" Hiccup asked. "Is it easier to defeat a shadow when the light is dim? You know, like in moonlight, starlight, twilight, dawn, or dusk?"

"Um…"

"And what about personality types?" Hiccup gushed, ideas flooding from his mouth. "Introverts? Extroverts? Optimists? Pessimists? Do optimists think of happy thoughts faster than pessimists? Can optimists survive a shadow attack longer than pessimist? What about people with depression, dementia, memory loss? Are they more vulnerable? Less vulnerable? How long can people survive before the sadness kills them? CAN sadness kill?"

Wendy thought of Peter, possessed by Pitch. Suddenly, she was terrified. "Hiccup – "

"And what about you?" Hiccup practically shrieked. "Will happy thoughts hurt you? If you are holding a shadow and the lights go out, do your powers just extinguish? Do your powers weaken if you try to control more than one shadow? How many shadows can you control? Can you kill with a shadow? Have you ever even TRIED?"

"No!" Wendy thumped her helmet. "No I cannot kill with shadows, and no I have never tried! Shadow working is _dangerous_ Hiccup!"

"Dragons are _dangerous_ , Wendy!" Hiccup retorted. "Long ago, Vikings feared dragons! We fought them! We killed them! But after we _learned_ about dragons, we _learned_ how to use them for good! Instead of a _burden_ …our dragons became a _blessing_."

Hiccup allowed his message to sink. He waited for the illogical notion to first make sense, and then to flourish into possibility.

"Wendy." Hiccup gestured to their shadows, two black needles surrounded by the sunset. "I _truly_ think shadow working is your gift. And I _truly_ think that negligence and ignorance...is an abuse of your power."

"So do I."

Astrid ducked from a flurry of dragons. As her comrades landed, she seized Wendy's hair. Blue ribbon poking between her fingers, Astrid marched Wendy through the Vikings, dragged her to the center arena, and threw her in the dirt.

"Okay Ruffnutt." Astrid raised her axe. "Time to teach the shadow worker about girl power."


	113. Chapter 113: Girl Power

**Chapter 113: Girl Power**

Wendy hit the ground and saw stars. A yank later, Astrid smacked the stars to kingdom come.

"Whoooa! Astrid!" Hiccup stood so fast he almost left his peg leg behind. "What in the name of Thor –"

"She can destroy dragons, tear shadows, and torture souls!" Astrid sliced her axe. The blade flashed across the sunset. Wendy stumbled like an injured sparrow, but Astrid ruthlessly pursued. "Those are incredible powers! _Incredible_! So, Ruff and I were just wondering – why doesn't she use them?"

Wendy backtracked. "I— " she began, looking to Hiccup for help.

Suddenly Astrid darted. She swung, missing Wendy by a hair. As swiftly, Ruffnutt wove her spear between Wendy's legs and twisted. Wendy tripped. Ruffnutt caught her in a choke-hold that _should_ have broken Wendy's neck. But Ruffnutt was being nice – Astrid said no killing. Yet.

"Come _on_ shadow worker! Fight back!" Astrid shoved the blunt of her blade up Wendy's stomach. The blow was non-lethal but Wendy, (reminded of her nightmare), shrieked.

"No, no, no, don't!" Reactively, Wendy grabbed the wooden handle. Hot pink sun-rays seared her vision as she struggled. "Get off me! Let go! Please, please just stop – "

"Ask politely, mind your manners! _Great_ strategy that _always_ works!" Astrid ground her axe. Hiccup was protesting, Snoutlout was cheering, Tuffnutt was commentating, Fishlegs was whimpering, but Astrid ignored them. Pushing all commotion aside, she focused on Wendy.

"Why don't you use your powers?"

Wendy wrenched against Ruffnutt. "What?"

"Why don't you use your powers? For some reason, Thor blessed you with magic." Astrid jut her axe to Wendy's chin. "So why don't you use your powers?"

Wendy gagged. "I do."

"Ha!" laughed Ruffnutt.

"When?" Astrid demanded. "At tea parties?"

Wendy extended to avoid the axe. "I shadow work when I need to."

"So as a last resort?"

"Is that a bad thing?"

Astrid answered by hurling Wendy at Stormfly. The dragon stomped and snapped, burying Wendy in a blur of blue scales. Toothless immediately pounced to Wendy's rescue, but Hiccup unexpectedly withheld his attack. Gauging Astrid's motives, (and interested in the outcome), Hiccup allowed the bullying. He was ambivalent, but he allowed it.

"This better work Astrid." Hiccup clenched Toothless, partially to appease his dragon but predominately to remain calm. Abandoning his better judgments, Hiccup glared warningly at Astrid. "This better work."

Astrid returned Hiccup's glare. "It will." she muttered, signaling to Stormfly. "If I have to kill her, it will. Stormfly! Okay girl! Let her go!"

After a playful exchange, Stormfly set Wendy free. Wendy buckled, no worse for wear but temper rising. She scowled sideways at the dragon. Stormfly puffed her with smoke.

"Yes." Astrid advanced, axe over her shoulder. As Ruffnutt crept behind, she answered Wendy's question. "It _is_ bad that you don't use your powers! If you strike first, you can stop people from getting hurt. _Just_ like what happened with Fantasia."

Wendy's outrage flattened. Her pride dribbled to shame. Astrid's statement was a simple _'if – then'_ : IF you had shadow worked THEN Fantasia might have been saved. IF you had been stronger. IF you had used your powers. IF you weren't a wimp.

Astrid knelt. "So. Why don't you use your powers?"

A magenta sunray fell over Wendy's shoulders. The colored light stretch her shadow forward like a path untaken.

"Because..." Wendy relived a dark teenage memory. _The War Games. The finish line. Peter's shadow ripping. A hospital bed. Peter -a sick – white – carcass – cadaver – corpse without a soul._

Wendy flinched. The memory was _so_ painful.

"I hurt someone once."

" _Once_?!" Astrid hooted. "Well what's the fun of that? I hurt people all the time! People shove. People push. So you push back! And you push back _hard_!"

"But it's not the same!" Adamantly, Wendy pointed to her hand. "People I possess can't fight back! No one else can shadow work! It's not fair that I can control their shadows, and they can't control mine."

"Was it _fair_ when we surprise attacked Fantasia?" Astrid challenged. "Was it _fair_ when our dragons ate crying children after popping their parents limb from limb?"

"That battle was _different_ than everyday life!" Wendy insisted. "I shadow worked because I _had_ to!"

"That battle was _no_ different than everyday life! You shadow worked because you were _told_ to! _Wimp_!" Astrid spit on Wendy's boot. "Miss scared little wimp does everything proper and prim, just like she's told. She's so fancy, she's so cute – "

"Stop it!" Wendy hit the ground. Astrid's shadow quivered. So did Ruffnutt's. "Stop it, you have _no_ idea what harm a shadow can do! These memories – "

"People forget memories!"

" _But I DON'T_!"

The Vikings stepped back. Wendy hadn't moved, but something in her voice _startled_ their shadows. Hiccup experienced the strangest sensation, like stitches were being pulled from his toes. Astrid's felt like slivers. The sensations intensified as Wendy spoke.

"You may forget memories! But I don't!" Wendy probed her temple. "I see them, I feel them, I relive them and they _hurt_! The shadows stick to me! They climb inside me and stick like – "

"Like a wolf hunt." Astrid said. "If the fawn is brave, the wolves will chase. But if the fawn is afraid, the hunt turns into a feeding frenzy. You have to fight back! Be meaner than the nightmare, scarier than the shadow! _Scare your worst memories_ – "

Astrid seized Wendy's hair ribbon and yanked. "— _to death_!"

Wendy was nearly decapitated. Thrown in the dirt, she inhaled debris as Ruffnutt pushed her head and Astrid unknotted her bow.

"Come on Fantasian! Fight!"

"Be nasty!"

"Be mean!"

"We are killing you!"

"You are dead!"

"The sun is setting!"

"You're losing the light!"

"No more light – "

"—no more shadows!"

"You're such a wuss."

"You're such a prick."

"You're such a damsel."

"You're such a dainty."

"You are such a pathetic wimp—"

Wendy grabbed Astrid's shadow. But before she shred, she screamed.

"He _likes_ who I am!"

Why she screamed, Wendy had no idea. After all it was over. Screaming wasn't going to reverse the future or change the past. But still, she screamed.

Then Wendy attacked. She tattered Astrid's shadow to silky threads, extracting every evil memory. As happened with Arista and Jim, Astrid's memories quickly overwhelmed Wendy, but this time with an overarching fear of failure. Wendy was shocked – Astrid's past failures were accompanied by _tremendous_ self-depreciation. It was awful. It was scary.

It hurt.

Wendy felt the shadow taking over. Astrid's personal belittlements seeped into her own, then turned into her own, reminding Wendy that she was a small, weak, girly, prude –

 _But…_ Wendy heard the happy thought. _He liked who I am. He liked me. And he didn't want me any other way_.

Wendy summoned her anger. She concentrated furiously on her happy thought, and dispelled the shadow. She pushed every drop of fear and unhappiness right back down Astrid's throat. Ruffnutt was caught in the crossfire, and the Viking men suffered the peripheral force.

And although Wendy felt the unhappy memories, the _thrill_ of victory, the _excitement_ of winning soaked her with happiness. It was incredible! Wendy felt like pure sunshine, overstimulated with sugar, spice, and everything nice! Astrid's memories burned in her hands, but Wendy's fear dissolved.

And with one final push –

Astrid and Ruffnutt collapsed. The boys gaped as the shadow violently recoiled, and Wendy stared breathlessly at her hands.

"I…I _did it_. I…" The sun set behind her, but Wendy's smile lit the evening. Tingling with achievement, Wendy beamed at the Vikings.

Her smiled faded.

"Astrid! Ruffnutt!" Wendy ran across the arena, to the Viking ladies sprawled over their weapons. "Oh no, no, no! I'm sorry! Astrid! Ruffnutt! Are you – "

Astrid swiped Wendy's ankles. Wendy fell.

"And that…" Astrid rose. Sisterly, she and Ruffnutt lifted Wendy to her feet, welcoming her to the group. "Is called girl power."

* * *

 **... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ...**

 **sultal's note: lots of questions last chpter if I am 'foreshadowing.' Don't want to give anything away, but let's just say that everything I write now is 'purposeful.' May not be 164% foreshadowing, but def there is a purpose for everything in this story.**


	114. Chapter 114: Pips Pan

**Chapter 114: Pips Pan**

"We don you!" Tuffnutt plopped the Viking helmet on Wendy's head. "Wendy the Wimp Shadow Worker! Honorary Viking of Berk – home of the Harry Hooligans and constituent of Chief Hiccup Horrendous Haddock III! Troops – doff your sacred helms!"

Tuffnutt removed his helmet. The Vikings followed suit, revealing matted, oily hair. Fleas skipped from Tuffnutt's dreadlocks as he chanted across the fire.

"Wear your horns proudly, Wendy the Wimp! Fight with Thor in your heart and Loki in your veins! Remember the Viking code: _Stand taller than your helmet, but wear it always on your head_! Wendy the Wimp, do you accept this honorary decree?"

Wendy giggled with the Vikings. The ceremony was lighthearted, initiated from an impromptu campfire story. Hiccup had offhandedly suggested that Wendy join the tribe. Tuffnutt had agreed and began dictating her membership. It was a silly, goofy affair.

Wendy was _fairly_ certain that the ceremony was a joke. So she consented.

"I accept." Wendy tipped her helmet (which made the Vikings cheerfully groan). Then she curtsied (which made the Vikings _and_ dragons groan). "I accept your christening and swear always to fight with Thor in my heart and Loki in my veins. Although I don't understand how I can stand taller than my helmet when it's actually on my head..."

"If you figure it out!" Tuffnutt bopped his helmet. "Then let us know! Loki did it once. No one can figure how. Eh, oh well. Back to business! Fishlegs? Snoutlout?"

"Yeaaaah?"

"You may kiss the honorary Viking."

"Yay!"

"Yahs!"

"No!" Wendy thrust out her helmet, discovering yet another valuable use (blocking unsolicited advances). As Snoutlout smooched the metal, she laughed. "No they may not! Tuffnutt, Ruffnutt I said no! No, no, no – "

"Alright gang." Hiccup untangled Wendy from the twins. They'd hoisted her over Snoutlout's lips, but luckily Hiccup intercepted. "Let's settle for the night. We're flying to Dragon's Edge tomorrow. We've got to restock before Drago arrives. He's probably looking for us right now, so everybody get some sleep."

Hiccup motioned to the stars. The night was clear but cold. "Wendy, Toothless, and I will take first watch. Everybody else – sleep."

"Night girl!" Ruffnutt socked Wendy's shoulder. "Don't let the bed bugs bite. For real there are bed bugs. And they bite."

Wendy grinned. Her shoulder creaked. "Thank you."

The boys bade similar goodnights. Tuffnutt punched her other shoulder. Snoutlout and Fishlegs blew kisses. Astrid was less fluffy.

"Here, put this in your pocket." Astrid flipped Wendy a cigar lighter. The lighter was fat, silver, and generated a soft flame. "You don't want to be caught in the dark. Literally. Night Wendy."

Wendy glowed. _Astrid had said her name! For the first time!_ For some reason that made Wendy giddy. Aside from Ariel, she hadn't many female friends. So she did something outrageously sappy: she gave Astrid a hug.

"Goodnight Astrid!" Wendy stood on tiptoes. Astrid was tall, but Wendy managed a grateful squeeze. "Thank you for everything!"

"Oh Thor. You are such a wimp." Astrid maneuvered free. Her movements were gruff, but her goodnight kiss for Hiccup was extra sweet. "Night Hiccup."

"Night Astrid...Love you."

Astrid halted. She didn't look back. However...

"I love you too."

Somewhere in Valhalla, Thor and Loki (almighty gods and immortal enemies) were hugging.

Astrid glanced at Hiccup. With a tiny smile, she shouldered her axe. "Take care of him, Toothless. Wendy too, but Hiccup first. They're both terrible Vikings. We'll probably get attacked on their watch. Just don't let Hiccup die. Night Toothless...Hiccup."

Toothless gently bayed. Then mischievously, he nudged Hiccup.

"Yeah." Hiccup sighed, a dream-cloud dancing over his head. "She totally is."

Viking love – a rare beast, but a beautiful one. Touched by the interaction, but saddened nevertheless, Wendy politely disappeared. Resting by the fire, she stirred the embers and tried not to think of Peter.

"Okay Wendy Shadow Worker. You, me, and Toothless. First watch." Hiccup sat. There were definite sparkles in his eyes. "Hope Astrid didn't give you the wrong impression of Vikings back there. We're actually _never_ thatlovey dovey."

Wendy couldn't help herself. "Hiccup that was adorable. You and Astrid – are you betrothed?"

"Once I catch her without the axe, then yeah I'm going to propose."

"Don't wait." Wendy advised as Toothless waddled behind them. The dragon nestled, cueing Wendy and Hiccup to lean against his warm flank. Once she was situated, Wendy continued.

"Hiccup don't wait any longer. You never know what the next second will bring. One moment you could be together forever, but the next..."

Wendy swiped the sky. "...you could be torn apart. When you're with someone you love...forever isn't an awfully long time at all. You love Astrid. So propose. Don't waste this time you can share."

Hiccup stroked Toothless' tail. "You sound like a woman that knows."

Wendy didn't answer. So Hiccup guessed.

"That guy from your letter?" Hiccup unpocketed Wendy's note. Smoothing the third postscript, he read. " _p.p.p.s Please respond. '_ Please' is underlined. Guy musta been important. Important enough to underline a 'please.' Huh?"

Wendy stared at the fire. Then she sighed at the stars. "I'd rather not discuss it."

"No problem." Hiccup congenially shrugged. "I can wangle an abrupt change of subject. So how do you like being a Viking?"

It _was_ an abrupt change of subject. But Wendy was relieved. She gracefully acknowledged the switch.

"Goodness that was funny wasn't it? Dear me, Tuffnutt...what a character." Wendy removed her helmet. She fingered the curly white horns before passing it to Hiccup. "I suppose you'll want this back."

Hiccup laughed. "Wendy. That's _your_ helmet. You're an honorary Viking now."

"What?"

"You're an honorary Viking. It's official, we named you and everything. We take naming very seriously."

"But...that was real?"

"I authorized the ceremony," Hiccup smiled at Wendy's astonishment. "And as long as I am chief, you are a Hairy Hooligan. Congrats. First Fantasian ever."

Toothless clapped his wings. Wendy held her new helmet like a jeweled tiara.

"I...Hiccup thank you but – oh dear should I call you Chief Hiccup?"

"Well it would be Chief _Haddock_ , but Hiccup is fine."

"Oh. Well Chief Haddock – "

"Wendy seriously, call me Hiccup."

"Hiccup." Wendy began, very flustered that her allegiances were now split. "Hiccup first of all, thank you. But – "

"You're welcome."

"But I can't be both a Viking _and_ Fantasian! You see, I am the Underworld guardi – "

"I don't want you to be both a Viking _and_ Fantasian." Hiccup said. "I want you to be a Viking. I want you to join us. We're the good guys. Think about it. Your king killed our king."

"Hiccup, King Arthur wouldn't – "

" _And_ , Fantasia made _you_ believe the worst of _yourself_."

Wendy started to lie. "No they – "

"Yes they did." Hiccup reprimanded. "You _told_ me they did. Remember? Your classmates tried to drown you because you were a shadow worker."

"But Hiccup that was only a small group of – "

"Fantasia has done you zero favors." Hiccup interrupted, voice stern. "Fantasia let you believe that shadow working is dangerous. Sure, shadows remind people that they are inherently evil. But... _Vikings_ are inherently evil. _Dragons_ are inherently evil. We are the worst. _But_ , you get two wimps like you and me..."

Hiccup rest a hand on Wendy's helmet. "...and you get inherently evil with hearts of gold. Best combo for fighting the good fight, righting wrongs, and keeping peace."

Dread suddenly hit Wendy. So sharp was her suspicion, she didn't notice the frost gathering under her helmet.

"Hiccup." Wendy began. "Hiccup...you're going to let me leave...aren't you? You wouldn't force me to stay? Not when Fantasia was taken and King Arthur was lost...would you?"

Clouds veiled the moon. Hiccup glanced at Toothless. They shared a clairvoyant conversation. Then Toothless nodded. Wendy felt the nightfury tense around her as Hiccup spoke.

"You will be happier here. Wendy – you've seen us, you know us by now. Vikings are ugly, hairy, burly, and fat. We have yellow teeth, dirty nails, and missing limbs. But, we don't hide our flaws. We boast them. We _like_ being different. Being different makes us _strong_. Why do you think Astrid didn't like you at first? Astrid didn't like you, but it wasn't because you were a shadow worker. Astrid didn't like you...because you denied it."

Wendy edged back. "I...I understand. But you don't. Fantasia needs me. King Arthur -"

"King Arthur is a _murderer_." Hiccup resumed, unrelenting to Wendy's objection. "I couldn't stop Arthur from killing our king...but I _can_ stop him from letting Fantasia _hurt_ _you_. I bet Arthur shoved you in some deep, dark corner, didn't he? Somewhere out of the way, separated from Fantasia, a convenient place to die? Away from friends? Away from family? Just you and frightening powers that you didn't understand? I am I _right_ , Wendy Shadow Worker? Or am I _wrong_?"

Wendy couldn't respond. She knew she should defend King Arthur. After all, Arthur blamed himself when in _actuality_ the Wishing Star set the guardians' fate. Wendy's tribulations were not Arthur's fault.

However...

...Hiccup was offering Wendy something that Fantasia had not: trust. No matter how dearly Jim loved her, or how enthusiastically King Arthur received her powers, _Fantasia_ (as a whole) mistrusted her. To the Fantasians, Wendy was a monster. But to the Vikings, Wendy was a benefit; another misfit; one of the gang.

Hiccup traced Wendy's forearm. His finger bumped over the calloused tissue, the white scars spelling SHADOW WORKER.

"If I was forced to hide in the shadows...I'd be afraid of the dark too."

Wendy stared at Hiccup. And she saw the future he was trying to paint. She saw School of Shadow, a thriving academic university paired with School of Dragon, devoted to people like her and teaching them to find the peace in themselves. She saw dragons that could swim trough the ocean, so she could see Ariel. She saw dragons that could fly into space, so she could see Jim. She saw hope. She saw happiness. And yes she saw horned helmets...

But Wendy _still_ did not see Peter Pan. Peter had excised himself from her future...no matter the version.

And...Wendy also did not see King Arthur. In Hiccup's future adaptions ...King Arthur wasn't there.

Wendy made her decision. She edged towards Hiccup's shadow, preparing to fight.

"Hiccup - "

"Sorry Wendy!" Jack Frost leapt from behind. Clamping Wendy with ice, he charged into a rustling wind, leaving all shadows behind. "Sorry Wendy, but Elsa's in trouble! Pitch wants you, and Peter's getting someone in the ocean named Hawkins – "

Plasma blasts bombed the sky. Toothless and Hiccup streaked under Jack's snow flurries, searching for an attack angle. Without his staff Jack couldn't retaliate, but he was not powerless. The wind blew he and Wendy unimaginable distances, sweeping them towards King Ruber's army.

But they never reached Jack's destination. As the Vikings chased Jack and Wendy over dark woodlands, they were _all_ attacked.

And they were attacked by Ferngullians.

Ferngully's canopy opened. The Ferngullians shot upwards, turning the pursuit into a battle. They attacked the invisible frost phantom _and_ the Vikings – luminous wings sparkling across the night.

In fact, so luminous were the Ferngullians' wings, they cast shadows. Twisting wildly, Wendy grabbed Jack's shadow and shred.

Jack's memory burst open. _"Jack no!" cried a little girl, slipping on her skates, tears dripping over the ice breaking beneath her. She looked at Jack and sobbed. "No! You always play tricks!"_

Wendy fell as Jack screamed. Hurtling through ice, dragon fire, and glittering wings she fell down... down... down...

"Gotcha!"

Someone rammed her. It was a man. A flying man. He was too late to save the fall, but athletic enough to stall the impact. Together they rolled through the canopy and hit the forest floor. Wendy lost consciousness twice before the flying man finally spoke –

"Damn it. _Another_ human."

Wendy's head swam. She blinked deliriously at the flying man –

" _Peter_?" Unbelieving, Wendy groped for the red hair, pointed ears, and cocky face. The flying man was blurry, but his visage was _unmistakable_. "Peter Pan?"

Pips caught her wrist.

"No. It's _Pips_ Pan. Peter...was my brother's kid. And Peter died. Long ago. With his parents."

Pips leaned. He peered at Wendy, nose to nose. "How'd you know about Peter?"

Wendy wilted.

"I love him." she answered, fainting dead away.

 **... ... ... ... ... ... ... .. ... ... ... .. ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ...**

 **sultal's note: And they both play the pan flute in their movies...just LOOK at Peter and Pips and tell me they don't look similar. I just had to. Just had to. keep writing.**


	115. Chapter 115: The Royal Pans

**Chapter 115: The Royal Pans**

"Ferngullians…I _hate_ Ferngullians."

Snoutlout strained against his noose. The Vikings had been strung from a diseased tree with diseased branches for footholds. The tree was called _Hangman's Tree_. Apparently, _Hangman's Tree_ contained an ancient demon named Hexxus. Hexxus had been imprisoned for eons, which the Ferngullians celebrated by hanging trespassers from the boughs.

Hangman's Tree was Nature's gallows. Their nooses were actually jungle vines. Each vine was thick as an anaconda and infested with ants. As Snoutlout complained, Hiccup could feel tiny ant vibrations within his noose. His neck was also starting to itch….as if creepy-crawlies were nibbling out of the vine and up his …great.

"Snoutlout." Hiccup shifted gingerly on his bough. His peg leg slipped. The noose tautened. Hiccup froze. It was a long drop down. "For once I agree with you. This is ridiculous. Did anybody see where they put our dragons?"

"Negatory, Young Hiccup! Our dragons are tostitos! Hey everybody, watch this…" Tuffnutt swung experimentally on his noose. He choked, spun, snagged a foothold, and heckled with Ruffnutt when he didn't die. "Whoa. My spinal cord almost ripped. Seriously that was awesome. Fishlegs you're fluffy, I bet you would snap! Give it a whirl."

Fishlegs whimpered. Astrid tried to knock Tuffnutt from the bough.

"Okay everyone calm down!" Hiccup was _extremely_ aggravated. His body ached from maintaining his balance. Tuffnutt and Snoutlout were giving him a headache. And the dark, enchanted tree was playing tricks with his mind. With every other blink, Hiccup thought he saw a slimy smirk against the bark. "Enough with the fighting! We've got to beak free, and we've got to do it before we fall asleep. If we fall asleep …well…"

"We'll fall off the tree!" Ruffnutt completed. "We'll fall off the tree and snap –crackle – pop – "

"SNAP goes your spinal cord!" sang Tuffnutt. "CRACKLE goes your vertebrae! And POP goes your head! And the little Vikings go wah, wah wah, all the way home!"

"Tuff." growled Astrid. "Shut up."

"Just trying to be positive."

"Try being quiet."

"Don't make me get ugly, Astrid."

" _That_ ship sailed long ago."

"Enough of the fighting!" Hiccup repeated. "Ruff and Tuff that includes you! Everyone, work these vines – try to undo the knots."

"Um Hiccup." said Fishlegs. "Just a minor thought – these vines are probably enchanted? It's probably impossible to undo them."

"And?"

"Just saying."

"Are you finished with the unhelpful input?"

"Yes, Sir."

"Okay." Hiccup fished with his knots. "Everyone untie."

"And what are _you_ going to do in the meantime?" Snoutlout asked, trying to wrench apart his tethers. "Bask in the glory of capture, failure, and defeat?"

"No." Hiccup scanned the jungle. "I'm going to pray for Wendy."

It was an ironic statement; because Wendy was murmuring a prayer to herself.

* * *

 **… … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … …**

* * *

"Oh please…no…more… _nightmares_."

Wendy drifted from her sleep. The nightmare she'd been having laughed into oblivion.

Of course the nightmare had been about Peter's unborn child. Of course, Captain Hook had sliced her womb, killing the child. And of course Wendy felt sick when she woke, but the nausea (to her horror) was becoming status quo. Her head still throbbed, the vomit still burned. The pain was normal. Normal as the nightmare.

However, there was _one_ feature of the nightmare that scared Wendy: the vividness. With every reoccurrence the dream became grittier. She could _see_ Captain Hook tearing her stomach, layer by layer. She could _hear_ him laughing very gently beneath her screams. And before he died, Wendy could _feel_ Peter Michaleen kicking inside her...with teeny, tiny, adorable baby feet.

Wendy exhaled. She draped a hand over her forehead. With the other, she rubbed her stomach.

Then she remembered,

"Peter." Wendy opened her eyes. "Peter? Are you there – "

"HIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII!"

Wendy saw a flash. The flash glittered into a pair of wings as Crysta seized Wendy's hand and shook. _Very_ enthusiastically.

"Hiiiiiiii Human Girl! I'm Crysta, Pip's best friend, and I am _so_ excited to meet you! I grew up with Cornelius and I absolutely _loved_ Thumbelina! Thumbelina was great, so pretty and sweet and devoted and she was a _great_ gardener! Let me tell you _no one_ could grow an orchid like Thumbelina! _That_ girl had a green thumb! Ha ha get it? _Thumb_ elina? Green thumb? _Anyway_ …!"

Crysta tapped Wendy's bearskin smock. "You're not a Viking, right? You look like a Fantasian. I'm only asking because you're so petite! Thumbelina was petite JUST like you, which I think is _so_ _weird_ because they say boys marry girls that remind them of their mothers and – "

Crysta was interrupted by an overhead clatter. Looking up, Wendy perceived her surroundings (she was in a treehouse), but her investigation was stalled as Pips plunged through the overhead skylight.

As the skylight's trapdoor swung, Wendy noticed: the treehouse hadn't any doors. The only entrances were via the ceiling. Skylights.

 _Because they fly._ Wendy silently reasoned. _Just like Peter flying through my window, refusing to use the door. He thinks thresholds are silly. It feels more natural to fly._

Wendy stared, transfixed with the Ferngullians. Unlike Tinkerbell and the pixies, Crysta and Pips had muscular wings. Yes _muscular_. The transparent tissue was thick; Wendy could see every muscle fiber contracting across the subdermal veins. Their wings were powerful. Savage. Beautiful.

Wendy didn't need verification: Ferngullians were _fast_.

"Just like Peter." Wendy murmured to herself. "Just like Peter Pan…"

Suddenly Pips turned. Wendy jumped. She'd meant to be silent, but the _second_ she whispered Peter's name, Pips had stopped arguing with Crysta. Somehow he'd heard. Wendy was nonplussed until she saw Pips' ears: they were long, sharp, and pricked like antenna. And again…they were eerily…

"Lemmie guess…" Pips flicked an auricle. His ear prickled as he crouched before Wendy. "Just like Peter?"

Wendy almost said yes. However, Pips's tone was facetious so she withheld.

But Pips _looked_ like Peter. And the resemblance was _unnerving_. There were minor discrepancies, (Pips was broad - Peter was lithe; Pips had long hair - Peter's was choppy; Pips boasted green eyes – Peter's were black) but the upturned, reckless elfin features were almost identical.

Identical also, Wendy sardonically noticed, in personality. Like Peter, Pips was aggressively overconfident, whimsical despite his annoyance, and _incredibly_ aware that he was _incredibly_ handsome.

"Pips." Crysta scolded, although she couldn't stop smiling. "Pips, be nice. She's your niece in law."

"Barf it up Crysta." Pips rocked on his haunches. He examined Wendy cagily, hands tucked under his arms. "Barf it up. She's not my _niece in law_ , and I know that because _one_ , she ain't wearing a ring. _B_ , there ain't no such thing as a niece in law. _Three_ , Cornelius, Thumbelina, and Peter are dead. And _D_ , males in our family prefer busty females. Sorry toots…"

Pips offered Wendy halfhearted condolences. "…you're a baking sheet without the cookies."

Wendy would have been offended, but Pips' comment was very... _Peter-ish._ It was crude, but expected. Wendy was merely embarrassed beyond belief.

Cyrsta was vexed.

"Pips! _Behave_! Come on! Just look what you did!" Crysta pinched Wendy's cheek and shook. "She's blushing! You're making Peter's human girlfriend _uncomfortable_!"

"Yeah?" Instead of disagreeing, Pips became opportunistic. Purposely flexing his _perfectly_ sculpted pectorals, Pips leered at Wendy. "Am I making you _uncomfortable_ , human girl?"

Yes!

He!

Was!

Oh-goodness, for-heavens-sake, shiver-her-timbers, all-hail-King-Arthur-and-long-live-the-king, was Pips making Wendy UNCOMFORTABLE.

"No." Wendy's heart hammered in her mouth. "No…you're…not…"

Wendy stopped. She was being demure, polite. She was feeding into Pips' confidence. Remembering Astrid's tutelage, Wendy hardened her voice and revised.

"Yes. Yes you are. Yes you are making me _very_ uncomfortable."

"Really? Bout time." Pips glanced at Crysta. "Thought I was losing my touch. Okay then, _girl_ , tell us – what about Pips Pan makes you uncomfortable? The good looks? Pointed ears? Betcha it's the hair, girls love my hair. Here…"

Pips swished his fiery mane. "I'll even let you touch it. So long as you let me touch something of yours."

" _Pips_." Crysta was firm. And a little territorial. "Pips stop it. You don't have to be cruel. Give her a chance, it wasn't Thumbelina's fault. Not all humans are bad."

"Not all humans are good."

"You've only met one."

"Three: Thumbelina, this chic and that King Arthur dude."

Wendy's attention fluttered. "Did you say King Arth – "

"And I didn't like none of them humans!" Pips continued. "Especially Thumbelina. She got Corny twitterpated and _then_ killed."

"But you heard the human girl!" Crysta objected. "Thumbelina might have saved Peter!"

"Crysta! Peter is _dead_!"

"No he's not." Wendy stood. Pips' glare kick-started her nerves, so she spoke fast. "I don't know who you are, or what you are talking about, but Peter Pan _is_ alive. But, Peter is in trouble. He's bewitched by his shadow, and he's controlling it – Pitch Black I mean. And Jack…oh my goodness Jack said Peter was going to _do something_ to Jim. I don't know what that means, but it's somewhere over the ocean. Regardless, Peter _is_ alive and I'm the only one that can stop him from hurting Jim – "

"SLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLOW DOWWWWWWWWWWWN."

Wendy stuttered as Pips bleated ' _slow down_.' He took his time elongating the consonants and increasing volume trough the words. As Pips finished, Wendy made a mental note: _Pips Pan – becomes insulting when he is angry and impatient. Just like Peter._

"Man you've got a mouth." Pips wiggled a finger in his ear. "Hope at least you can kiss with that yapper. We already know you're lips are bomb with the whole talking and lying thing…"

"Lying? Why would I – "

Wendy paused. Pips was hovering, and he had started floating around her. Wendy recognized this trick. Pips was doing the _Peter Intimidation Thing_ : _I-Can-Fly-And-You-Can't._ If-You-Turn-Right-I-Go-Left. If- You-Spin-Around-I'm-Over-Here. Ha-Ha-It's-all-a-Game. I Win. You Lose.

Wendy forced herself not to move.

"Why would I lie?" she said to the wall. Pips bobbed in her peripheral vision, just over her shoulder. "Peter and I went to school together. Peter is…a colleague."

Pips chuckled.

"Colleague? Not what you said before toots. Believe you said…" Pips made squishy, kissy sounds. " _Love_. Oh dear, I love Peter Pan. Oooooooooooooooo Peeeeeeeeeeeeeetahhhhhhhh….mmmmmm… uhhhhhhhh…. ahhhhhhh….."

Pips pretended to ...publicly display affection. He switched between male and female roles, making the male extra vulgar and the female extra juicy. Wendy waited for the inappropriate theatrics to stop. She wanted to cry. But she didn't.

"He's in trouble." she said flatly.

"Hm?"

"Peter. Peter Pan is in trouble." Wendy sighed. "And I'm not sure I save him. Or if he'll let me."

Wendy could not see, but Pips' ears drooped. Then they tensed, as if listening to Wendy's unhappy thoughts. Uncertainly, Pips rubbed his neck, and scratched his hair. He looked at Crysta. Crysta gave a pleading pout back.

Pips surrendered.

"Okay. Fine. One question." Pips confronted Wendy. Eyebrows defiantly angled, he asked. "When was Peter Pan born?"

Wendy answered immediately, the Wishing Star Prophecy bright in her mind. "The Vernal Equinox. First Day of Spring. March twenty first."

Pips' response was staggered. He flinched – blinked –– gaped at Crysta –

"Crysta... Peter's alive."

* * *

 **… … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … …**

* * *

First and foremost, Pips and Crysta demanded to know if Cornelius and Thumbelina were alive.

Wendy apologized but she had no idea. She didn't even know who Cornelius and Thumbelina were.

But when she found out…

"His _parents_?" Wendy was flabbergasted. "Peter has _parents_?"

" _Had_ parents." Pips corrected. "Cornelius and Thumbelina. Thumbelina was a human girl. Cornelius Pan was my big brother. He and Thumbelina died escaping to Fantasia. But apparently…Peter survived."

Pips faded, lost in thought. Since his revelation of Peter's existence, Pips was less abrasive with Wendy. True, he hadn't apologized (just like Peter wouldn't have), but his manners had _much_ improved. He was almost chummy.

Wendy was burning questions. Peter's world had expanded like a supernova. Wendy itched to resolve every mystery and answer every riddle. However, Pips was morose. Inquisitiveness seemed rude.

Thank goodness for Crysta.

"Pips that means you're an uncle!" Crysta punched Pips' ribs. " _Uncle_ Pips! That sounds so nice, I bet you and Peter are going to get along great! Hey human girl – "

"My name is Wendy."

"Wendy?"

"Wendy Moria Angela Darling."

"Lengthy. Well anyway, Wendy, _why_ did you mistake Pips for Peter? Do they look alike?"

"Yes." Wendy confirmed as Crysta drew circles around Pips' face. She blushed as Pips made eye contact. He was tremendously handsome. "Extremely. But Peter has shorter hair. And smaller ears. And his eyes are – "

"Black?" said Pips.

"Yes." Wendy nodded, blush deepening. "Midnight black. You know, black with energy. Not like a dirty, cold black hole in the ground, but black with starlight– "

"Do you always talk this much when you're uncomfortable?" interrupted Pips.

"I – " Wendy faltered. "I…don't know how to respond to that? But I think …perhaps it would be prudent to stop talking?"

Pips stared. And then he laughed.

"Wow." he said, wings curling reactively to his laughter. "Geeze you're something else. Okay toots. Pop quiz. How old is Peter?"

"Twenty one."

"Looks like me, huh?"

"Yes, very similar."

"Red hair?"

"Bright red."

"Messy?"

"Infuriatingly."

"Sexy eyebrows?"

"Well…I mean…"

"Okay skip it, you're turning purple. Here's another question – Thumbelina was human. So Peter was born without wings." Pips waved lightly. "Did he grow a pair? Or is the poor kid still crippled?"

"Crippled?" Wendy laughed out loud. She could imagine Peter's reaction to being called ' _crippled_.' "No, not at all. Peter doesn't have wings, but he _can_ fly."

"Really?" Crysta cooed. "How?"

"I'm not sure." Wendy admitted. "Peter started flying when he was fifteen. It's a long story, but flight was a magical power given to Peter by the Wishing Star. Peter has been flying since."

"Wishing Star?" Pips frowned. "As in Twinkle Twinkle Little Star? _That_ Wishing Star?"

Wendy assumed Pips was referring to _The Wishing Star Prophesy_. "Yes."

"So…" Pips rubbed his chin. "So then…The Prophesy was right? Peter _was_ The Chosen One?"

"Oh dear." Wendy rushed though the detailed explanation. "I know exactly what you are talking about, and _no_ Peter is _not_ The Chosen One. You're referring to the part in the Wishing Star Prophesy that goes: _Four season turn, all are cursed_ – "

" _Find the one born on the first._ " Pips finished with a dark nod. "Yeah, Peter was born on the first of spring, March twenty first."

"That refers to when the Fantasian _guardians_ were - " Wendy began -

\- but Pips had already barreled angrily ahead.

" _Find the one born on the first_! Out of all the days in a year, Peter has to be born on the first of spring! Great timing Thumbelina, way to pop out your baby on damnation day."

"Pips." Crysta chided. "That was not Thumbelina's fault."

"Whatever, she's the one that wanted a kid."

"Cornelius wanted babies too."

"Yeah, yeah I know. Idiot. Thumbelina had Cornelius looped around her little finger. Er…thumb."

"Hm, funny."

"Thaaaaaanx."

"If you don't mind my asking…" Wendy attempted to redirect the flighty exchange. "What happened? To Peter's parents, I mean. Cornelius and Thumbelina?"

Pips darkened. "They were killed."

"By humans." Crysta clarified. "Pirates. It was awful. There was a pirate named Captain Hook. Hook was just… _gutting_ children. It didn't matter the species. It didn't matter boy or girl. He just... _slaughtered_. Everyone was scared."

"So Thumbelina ran." Pips tiptoed his fingers up Wendy's arm. "Literally. Dumb human girl, she could have gone faster if she had flown. Instead she had to dillydally on those pink little legs."

"Ferngully was on fire." reproved Crysta. "Thumbelina ran because she couldn't fly!"

Pips scoffed. "She could have waited for Cornelius."

"Cornelius was fighting."

"She could have waited for me!"

"Oh like _you_ would have helped her!"

Pips spun. As he yelled, both wings sharpened to slivers. "Hey I didn't like Thumbelina! But I _tried_ to help! _I_ was the one that chased her to the Great Wall, and _I_ was the one that had to tell Cornelius she was dead! I would have brought back her body, but whoooooooops Captain Hook shred Thumbelina to lunch meat, JUST like he did to Cornelius the next day! _And all for what_?"

Pips lashed at Wendy. "So this chic can appear twenty one years later, announcing that she loves Peter Pan?!"

Crysta was calm. "And…" she added gently. "So you could learn who Peter got his good looks from. And possibly…" she nudged Pips towards Wendy. "See for yourself?"

Pips sulked. He eyed Wendy, arms robustly crossed.

Finally he spoke.

"So. You're in love with my nephew, huh?"

Wendy hesitated. Then, mustering her courage, she crossed _her_ arms. "Yes."

Pips considered.

"I don't blame you." He finally decided. "Pan men are sexy beasts. Now, bigger question. Does Peter love you?"

Wendy didn't answer. But her heart crumbled to ash. Ash in her chest.

Pips smiled. "Speechless. Wow."

Wendy attempted glum laugh. Humor. Also like Peter.

Pips cocked his head. Then taking Wendy's arm, he twisted it over his shoulders. "Come on toots."

Wendy floundered as Pips scooped her into the air.

"You're taking me to Peter Pan."


	116. Chapter 116: Ride As I Write

**Chapter 116: Ride As I Write**

Wendy resisted on principle. YES she wanted to confront Peter (especially since Jack Frost suggested Peter was hunting Jim), but NO it was not permissible for Pips to snatch her at the slightest impulse. Spontaneous kidnappings _had_ been _Peter's_ privilege _when_ they were engaged, and it _had_ been one Wendy _wanted_ to reduce. She was a girl – not a doll.

So Wendy struggled. She did not protest (Pips was taking her where Hiccup would not) but she _clearly_ expressed her frustrations.

Unsurprisingly, Pips did not care. He flew like a summer storm, bursting here, zipping there, and smirking when Wendy thought she would fall.

"Don't worry, I gotcha." Pips darted over a waterfall. Without warning he plunged with the violent stream. Wendy gasped. Pips smiled as she hugged his neck. He dallied a handful of lazy seconds, _just_ to see how tightly Wendy could hold. Pretty darn tight.

"Lighten up toots." Pips skimmed the waterfall's frothing base. As they waited for Crysta, he squeezed Wendy's hip. "I ain't gonna drop ya."

Wendy fidgeted. " _Please_ get your hand away from there."

Pips grinned. "Sorry toots."

"And you can stop calling me – " Wendy suddenly focused on the waterfall. As Crysta appeared over the crest, Wendy pointed behind the curtain of cascading water. "Pips, behind the waterfall. Those red, orange, and purple lights. Are….Pips are those dragon flames? Are those _dragons_?"

Almost immediately, a plasma blast hit the waterfall from behind. The plasma fizzled harmlessly as a very _irritated_ nightfury growled.

"Toothless? Toothless!" Wendy squirmed. "Pips! Those are the Vikings' dragons! They're trapped behind the waterfall!"

Pips yawned.

"Yeah." he answered as Crysta navigated the chute. Repositioning Wendy, Pips followed Crysta downstream. "Dragons are there til they drown. Vikings are strung from Hangman's Tree."

" _WHAT_?" Wendy almost ruptured Pips' eardrums. "The dragons are drowning? The Vikings are hanging from a tree? You _killed_ them? How _could_ you? _Why_ would you hurt them? Pips! Crysta! Stop, I am not going to let those poor dragons drown – "

"SLOW DOWN!" Pips covered Wendy's mouth. "The Vikings ain't dead yet, don't blow your lips off! Geeze you Fantasians are worse than the Vikings! I don't _ever_ remember Thumbelina being this chatty! You are worse than Thumbelina _and_ that King Arthur kid put together!"

Wendy remembered. Jerking free, she continued. "King Arthur! Pips you saw King Arthur? Wait – stop flying! Don't leave the dragons!"

"We found a psycho kid." Pips said, ignoring Wendy and sweeping higher. "Skinny blonde, kept saying he was King Arthur, but he was a wack job. Crysta found him in Ogre Swamp with magic ice in his heart."

"Magic ice?"

"Apparently the dude is freezing to death."

"Unless his curse is broken by an act of true love!" Crysta added, swooping alongside. "I hope Artie finds that girl. Remember the snow queen, the one he has to make love him? What was her name?"

Wendy turned. "Elsa?"

"That's it! Elsa! Artie and the ogre where headed north to find her!"

"And to outrun the mob." said Pips.

"Mob?" echoed Wendy. "What mob?"

Cutthroat mob." Pips said. "Knives, chains, assault rifles, the whole shebang. Some guy named Ruber wants King Arthur dead – "

"Oh my goodness!"

"—and since that psycho kid was claiming to be King Arthur – "

"But that _was_ Arthur!" Wendy exclaimed. "Arthur was struck by Elsa's magic on their wedding day! He kept rubbing his heart during the battle, but I had no idea he was freezing to death! Oh my goodness. Pips – we have to free the Vikings, free the dragons, find Arthur, and then save Jim from Peter – "

"You're a little bossy, ain't ya?" Pips bounced Wendy. When she was quiet, he continued. "But we're not going by _your_ schedule, we're going by _mine_. We're _not_ freeing the dragons, we're _not_ freeing the Vikings, and we're _not_ rescuing the psycho King Arthur kid. We are going to find Peter Pan and there is nothing you can do to change my – "

Wendy arched backwards, lunged for Pips' shadow, and shred. The attack was brief (Pips crashed into the water), but Wendy tried something she never had before: she _deliberately_ looked for a memory. She looked for Peter's parents.

And she found them.

Pips' memories of Cornelius and Thumbelina were strong, almost too strong for Wendy to bear. Pips had insulted Thumbelina, sabotaged her romance, disowned Cornelius, wished ill upon their marriage, and refused to godparent their baby boy.

Those memories were bitter. But Pips' worst memory was heartbreaking.

Wendy saw Thumbelina through Pips' eyes. _Thumbelina was running, her long hair and blue dress whisking between sharp branches and dark trees. Pips was chasing her through the hollows, begging her to stop._

 _"_ _Thumbelina! Wait! Don't go there! Stop!"_

 _Wendy felt Pips' heart racing. She saw pirates crawling through the wood, teeth glowing in the moonlight. Pips screamed for Thumbelina to trust him. This time he wasn't pulling a prank. This time he wasn't trying to hurt her. This time he was telling the truth._

 _"_ _Thumbelina!" Pips shouted. His wings burned with exhaustion, his muscles ached. "Thumbelina! Thumbelina! STOP!"_

 _Thumbelina screamed. A baby cried. Then nothing. Nothing at all._

 _The memory fluxed forward in time. Pips staggered before his brother._

 _"_ _She's – Cornelius they're –I tried but - she just ran away from me – right into the pirates – I don't know why she -"_

 _"_ _Because she was afraid of you. You scared my pretty girl more than the pirates."_

 _Pips_ _sobbed. The pain spread through his chest, settled in his heart, decayed into a slimy hellhole..._

The memory ended. Crysta hauled Wendy and Pips from the water.

"What happened?" Crysta supported Pips. Still alarmed, she wiped his dripping bangs. "Pips, what did she do to you?"

Pips coughed. And perhaps it was a trick of the water, but his eyes were wet – like he'd been crying.

Pips looked at Wendy. "Did you see that?"

Wendy did not respond. She had reached a crossroad of life, and for the first time _ever_ , Wendy Darling had the high ground. It was time to be a guardian. It was time to take Fantasia's future into her own hands.

So, smoothing her fingers and clenching her fists, Wendy spoke.

" This is what is going to happen…Pips Pan."

* * *

 **… … … … … … … … … … … … …. … … … … ... …**

* * *

Tuffnutt was drowsy. So he started to sing.

"Ohhhhh I've got my rope, and I've got my noose! And I've so gotta pee, and I really gotta poop! I'm a Viking through and throuuuuugh! Ohhhhhhhhhhhhh! Everybody join in! Oh I've got my -"

"Tuff!" The Vikings chorused. "Shut up!"

"Hiccup this is not working!" Astrid chewed her tongue. She drew blood, using the pain to stay awake. "Sooner or later we are going to fall asleep, fall off these branches, and die! Even with Tuff singing – "

"You're welcome." said Tuffnutt.

"—we can't stay awake forever!"

"Astrid is right." agreed Fishlegs, chin bunching around his noose. "Hiccup we need a new plan and we it pretty fast."

"I say we pretend to surrender." Snoutlout jounced belligerently on his bough. "Pretend to surrender then _kill_ the Ferngullians in their sleep!"

"Ferngullians are nocturnal." muttered Hiccup, trying to brainstorm. "And they don't sleep much during the day, maybe averaging three hours tops."

"Whoa!" laughed Ruffnutt. "Nerd alert!"

"Totally sis." Tuffnutt tiptoed along the branch. "Quick, edge over this way before you catch it. Nerds are contagious. Unless they're irregularly shaped sugar coated candy concessions, then Nerds are absolutely divine."

"Agreed."

"Gospel."

"Preach."

"We don't know where Wendy is…" Hiccup murmured, ignoring the twins' banter. "And she may need our help. And the dragons…who knows where they're being kept. Hm. Okay gang. I think we've only got one option left. Now I _know_ this is going to sit sour with everyone, but – "

"Please don't say we're going to hold peace talks." prayed Snoutlout.

"—but we're going to hold peace talks." Hiccup announced.

"WHY?" The Vikings whined. _Peace talks_ – _so obnoxious_. "Why? Why? Why?"

"Because we have no other option!" Hiccup shouted over the complaints. "And I'm not in the mood to die!"

"I'm good with death!"

"Better than peace talks!"

"See you in Valhalla."

"Hiccup we don't need to hold peace talks!" Snoutlout referenced the encounter with Peter. "We beat that one Ferngullian before…sort of."

"After he _sort of_ made you scream like a girl?" Ruffnutt snickered.

"At least I _can_ scream like a girl, _Ruffnutt_."

"Everyone doof it!" Astrid bellowed. "Hiccup is right. We have to get out of this mess! So if we have to hold peace talks, then we just _suck it up_ and hold peace talks. There isn't any other way."

"Yes there is." Wendy answered, spiraling through the branches with Pips. "There is another way."

"Wendy!" The Vikings cheered. The cheer immediately turned into a growl as they saw Crysta and Pips. "Oooooo! Ferngullians! Grrrrrrr!"

"Hiccup about those peace talks …" Tuffnutt nodded at Pips. The Ferngullian was wrapped around Wendy. "Word of advice – open with a compliment."

"Wendy you okay?" Hiccup leaned dangerously against his noose. "Did they hurt you?"

"No." Wendy said, fidgeting against Pips. She scanned the nooses anxiously before continuing. "No but Hiccup you must do _exactly_ as I say. If you don't the Ferngullians will…do something dreadful."

"There is a terrifying lack of clarity in that statement." Hiccup said.

"We're gonna kill ya." explained Pips.

"Shocker." Hiccup looked at Wendy. "Okay Wendy. What do you need us to do? What are the Ferngullians demanding?"

Pips chuckled caustically. "What are _we_ demanding? Buddy boy, you've got the wrong tyrant." Pips boosted Wendy. " _She's_ the one calling the shots. Tootsie here says that we can free your dragons….only if you save King Arthur."

Hiccup's jaw dropped. " _What_?"

"The boy with the frozen heart." Crysta patted her chest. "I know what King Arthur looks like, so I can help you and your dragons to find him. In the meantime, Wendy is taking Pips to Peter Pan."

"And if we don't free your dragons…" Pips griped. "…then she won't take me to Peter. Or Jim. Whoever the heck Jim is."

"So you get your dragons." summarized Crysta, "Pips finds Peter; Wendy finds Jim; King Arthur is saved; and somehow this war ends and we all live happily ever after."

"I'm still trying to figure out that part." Wendy admitted apologetically. "But this is good start."

The Vikings gawked. Hiccup seethed. But Astrid suddenly beamed.

"You shadow worked them." Astrid nodded between Wendy, Crysta, and Pips, slowly (but excitedly) connecting the dots. "That's why they're freeing us. That's why they're doing what you want. You scared them to death!"

Wendy shifted guiltily in Pips' arms. "I think… the end will justify the means."

"Girl I think you rock!" Astrid couldn't have looked happier. "Way to be a Viking, Wendy the Wimp!"

Wendy smiled. Her smile vanished when she turned to Hiccup.

Hiccup was angry. And he was hurt.

"Hiccup." Wendy pleaded. "Hiccup please listen..."

"You think the end will justify the means?" Hiccup shook his head, unwilling to compromise his beliefs. "I _won't_ save King Arthur. Arthur killed our king. And our king…was a _good_ man. I _promised_ The King there would be peace. I made a _vow_. And I will _not_ break that vow for the sake of King Arthur."

Hiccup stood firmly, peg leg and all. "Shadow work me all you want. I'm not saving a king that kills."

Wendy begged. "Hiccup, please. King Arthur wouldn't -"

" _No_."

Wendy bit her lip. Closing her eyes, she touched Hiccup's shadow. She found his memory of Toothless – scampering helplessly over the ledge in Avalon – whimpering – crying – falling down a deep dark hole – wings slashing – beautiful, black body flailing – unable to fly.

Wendy released. She waited for Hiccup to reprocess the pain, to suffer the despair he'd felt for his lost dragon.

Finally she whispered.

"You owe me. Chief Haddock."

* * *

 **… … … … … … … … … … … … …. … … … … ... …**

* * *

It came to pass. As Crysta lead the pursuit for King Arthur, and the Vikings followed with nothing more than Hiccup's indebtedness to Wendy, the chapter closed.

Wendy gazed beyond the Vikings. She gazed beyond their dragons curling across the sky. She saw armies stretching towards the North Pole, all hunting for King Arthur. She saw two worlds (Fantasia and the Otherland) stained by shadows, burned by dragons, and ravaged by war.

Cradled in Pips' arms, Wendy wondered aloud,

"How did this happen?"

She felt Pips sigh.

"Well Wendy Darling," Pips twirled into a westward wind. "I guess writers just like to muddle with our stories. We just gotta ride as they write."

Wendy smiled sadly. She was a storyteller – and it was a good analogy. Even if it came from the One and Only Pips Pan.

Onward they sailed, into the next chapter. The stars were clouded by shadows. The ocean cowered beneath a ceiling of dragons. The Man in the Moon hummed a sad lullaby. And Wendy imagined that somewhere, lost in the darkness and waiting in the disaster, was a happily ever after.

Perhaps.

... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ...

 **sultal's note: In case it wasn't clear, all these 'fairy characters' (Pips, Crysta, Tinkerbell, Cornelius, Thumbelina etc) are "normal size." They are not mini fairies.**


	117. Chapter 117: I Want A Moment To Be Real

**Chapter 117: I Want A Moment To Be Real**

"Jim. You'll have to talk to him eventually."

Jim agreed with his mother.

"Sure." he said, unwinding metal springs from Sinbad's mattress. "Once I take over this floating piece of crap, I'll drop him in a life boat with clear cut directions to Hell."

"To Hell!"Morph cheered.

"Thanks Morph." Jim wrenched a second spring free. He grimaced; the gripping smarted his scar. "Least _someone_ is on my side."

Sarah held her temper. She didn't like Jim's behavior but he had reason to be upset. Sinbad had liberated Sarah, but locked Jim in his cabin. Actually, he had _barricaded_ Jim in his cabin.

It was a harsh punishment, but Sinbad had safety concerns. Since his arrival, Jim had attempted to hijack _The Princess_ too many times to count. His last attempt had been extraordinarily successful – Jim had freed John Smith, thrown Eret overboard, and set sails for Fantasia before Sinbad interfered. Jim was detained; the door was padlocked; the key was discarded; and everyone (excluding Jim) was happy.

Well...happier. Sinbad was a wreck. Although he was clearly impressed, Jim's breakouts were making Sinbad...nervous. Nervousness was an uncommon trait for Sinbad; he generally thrived under high pressure situations. Like Jim, Sinbad preferred to _beat_ the odds rather than play them. So why was he nervous now?

At first, Sarah blamed Sinbad's nervousness on "daddy jitters." He had acted the same way before Jim was born, and practically died of anxiety every time Sarah asked him to change a diaper. Perhaps the return of his family had resurrected those old insecurities.

However, Sinbad denied it. At least, his actions indicated otherwise. Sarah quickly gauged that Sinbad was more _frustrated_ with Jim, and apprehensive about something else. Whenever Jim steered them off course, Sinbad would spend _hours_ scoping the horizon.

 _"Freakin' Boogie Man."_ he'd mutter, scanning the ocean for invisible foes. _"Damn it Jim we are going to get caught."_

Sarah didn't bother asking for translation. Sinbad would get irritated if she pried, and her energy was already spent on Jim.

Jim was _mad_. Sinbad thought Jim's anger was healthy. " _Let him stew_ ," he'd say "K _eep him in time out_." But Sarah refused; Jim had shunned her from his life before, and it had taken Wendy Darling, Ariel Triton, and Long John Silver to bring him back.

There was no way Sarah was losing her son. The first time she lost him was the last.

So she tried. Again.

"Jim. I _am_ on your side." Sarah lowered to the keyhole. "Jim look at me."

Scoff. "How? Under the threshold?"

"It's an expression."

"Kinda like the expression ' _till death do us part_?"

"Jim you don't know the whole story. Your father – "

"Here, can you pull this wire through?"

Jim stuck a wire spring through the doorframe. He waited, then wiggled the wire until Sarah accepted the opposite end.

"Got it?" he asked.

Sarah sighed. "Yes."

"Good. Slant sideways and pull. That should trigger the dumb freaking lock..."

Sarah conceded, without hope of success. To her surprise, the lock clicked free.

"Ha." Jim pushed the door. It opened a crack before hitting the exterior padlocks and chains. "Nailed it."

Sarah watched. As Jim thread his arm through the crack, she sighed. "Listen...sweetheart."

"Little busy." Jim said, making blind sweeps across the chains. "Still have a job to do. Remember? Guardian thing...save Fantasia...make sure Wen and Ariel aren't dead. Peter can die for all I care, but it would probably help if I saved Arthur too."

Sarah didn't respond. She thought of Michael and John. She didn't even want to _consider_ if they survived. Sinbad had kidnapped her before the attack; poor little Michael. He must have been so scared. And tall, proper, prudent John – secretly excited to marry Tigerlily and secure his future. They were angels, both of them. And now...perhaps literally.

 _Oh. Dreadful._ Sarah silently lapsed into one of Wendy's woeful expressions. But it was appropriate. It was ... _dreadful._

Sarah placed a padlock in Jim's hand. "Keep working. I'll talk to your father."

Jim paused. "What are you going to tell him?" he asked, shifting as Sarah strode away.

"I don't know." Sarah ascended to the quarterdeck. She shuddered in the cold, salty air. "But I have an idea."

If Jim responded, Sarah didn't hear. A mysterious southeasterly wind was blowing from the mainland, and Sinbad was taking advantage of the constant stream.

"Hoist up the crossjack! Move it, move it! Get her up! Dimitri coil that gasket tight, don't let her loose. If she tangles in the rigging you're walking the plank! Alright guys, haul it! Up with those yards, we've got a wind straight ahead! Heave ho!"

The crew echoed Sinbad's command, heaving the crossjack sail with synchronized, rhythmic pulls. Sarah smiled as Sinbad joined the lineup, throwing his powerful shoulders into the effort, and raising the sail to the wind.

"Brace round forward!" Sinbad caught Sarah's eye. Subconsciously straightening his shoulders and deepening his voice, he hooted the final order. "Set courses...flake braces leeward...and haul up the _spanker_!"

The crew hesitated.

"Spanker is already up." Vlad pointed to an aft sail. The square sheet was filled with wind. "Did you mean _ease out_ spanker?"

Sinbad strutted to Sarah.

"Not the spanker I was talking about." he said, giving Sarah's 'spanker' an affectionate squeeze. Smearing her frown with a kiss, Sinbad lead his wife up the starboard bow. "Marina, take the helm! Tack into the wind, we've got to make good headway on this run! Savvy, savvy?"

Marina smiled. But as she simpered, her fingers wound loose rigging into a noose. "Savvy, savvy. Captain. Sarah _dear_ , don't work too hard."

"She won't!" Sinbad tugged before Sarah could answer Marina's sarcasm. He did it for her. "So long as you don't work too hard conning Miguel into your swabbing duties _again_. Double shift tonight Marina, lets chip some polish of those nails."

The men chuckled. Cheerfully flowing between stations, they gibed Miguel for being swindled into Marina's chores, and Marina for getting caught. Marina cast evil eyes, but the ship sailed seamlessly along.

"Some things never change, eh princess?" Sinbad drew Sarah to the pulpit, a front-facing region of ship directly behind the bowsprit. He winked as Sarah settled under the jib. "Everybody's jealous of the girl with the best looking guy. And all the guy wants is jealously from the best looking girl. Right?"

Sarah didn't respond. She hardly seemed to hear.

Sinbad lifted a toe. "C'mon." He poked Sarah's calf. "Marina's a flooze. She's two of my favorite words: _bee – otch_. Plus, her spanker's not nearly as cute as yours."

Still nothing.

"Did I tell you I love the new dress?" Sinbad brushed Sarah's lavender hem. "Very nice, Sinbad likes lots. So remind me: when did we start wearing purple?"

Sarah inhaled. Spray sprinkled her dress as she exhaled. "Ariel suggested it."

"Who?"

"Jim's girlfriend. Ariel." Turning against the wind, Sarah continued before Sinbad could speak. "Sinbad, Marina is right. I _can_ help sail this ship."

Sinbad was still dumbfounded by the 'girlfriend' comment, but he recovered quickly. "I know you _can_ sail. I'm actually going to let you navigate when we're farther out. You're faster than a GPS. Arithmetic. Stars. Compasses. Sextants. Coordinates. You sexy little math geek. But for now... I don't want you helping."

"Why?"

"Captain's orders."

"Sinbad."

"Don't vex me! I'll make you walk the plank! Mwa ha ha!"

" _Sinbad_."

"Also..." Sinbad tapped his foot, indicating below deck. "You've been cavorting with Captain Rattail down there. _Obviously_ Jim wants to head back to Fantasia. He's made that _painstakingly_ clear. I figured you did too. So until I say so... you stay away from the helm. We're leaving Fantasia and that's final. What happened, happened. You can't bring back the dead."

"Really?" Sarah crossed her arms. "Then explain your resurrection."

 _Ooo. Metaphor. Good argument._

"Sexy and smart." Sinbad parted Sarah's hair. "Boy can I pick em, or can I pick em? Makes me want to propose all over again. Ha, ironic – I kidnapped you that time too!"

Sarah tilted away. "Sinbad, we have to go back to Fantasia."

"Princess, I'm sorry but no can do."

"No _can_ do, or no _will_ do?"

"No _want_ to." Sinbad replied. "And no want to for a _plethora_ of reasons. A _multitude_ of reasons. An _ocean_ of reasons. A _butt load_ of reasons."

"Such as?"

"Avoiding death." Sinbad counted on his fingers. "Avoiding Triton. Avoiding Ruber. Avoiding Drago. Avoiding Pitch. Sarah take it from me – Fantasia is nothing but a goopy puddle of blood and bones. And it's not going to get better now that Ruber is king – "

"What?"

"Ruber." Sinbad waved absently. "My old first mate, _real_ psychopath. Ruber pulled a mutiny when I was caught in a magic whirlpool, so Pitch Black decided to make him the new king of Fantasia. Typical."

"Magic whirlpool? King of fantasia?" Sarah shook her head. "Who is Pitch Black?"

Sinbad laughed. "Who is Pitch Black? _Only_ the dude responsible for this mess, that's who! Pitch Black is the Nightmare King. You're not going to believe this, but Pitch was created from shadows trapped inside a magic whirlpool. _Apparently_ the Fantasian guardians _put_ him in the whirlpool, so Pitch is planning to rebuild the Black Cauldron, repair the Wishing Star, and lock the Fantasian guardians _and_ King Arthur inside."

Sinbad smiled brightly for his closing statement. "Cool huh?"

Sarah stared. Then she snarled. "What did you have to do with this?"

He blinked. Sarah had been accusing, harsh. "Excuse me?"

"You heard me, _Sinbad_." Sarah pointed west, towards Fantasia. "How are you involved? You _knew_ that battle was coming! You _told_ me there was going to be an attack! There is a _reason_ I'm here and Michael, John, Wendy, Ariel and King Arthur are _not_! You are _involved_ somehow! So tell me _now_ before I tell your _son_!"

" _Tell my son_?" Sinbad laughed so hard, he didn't notice that the sails had drooped, and were quivering without wind. "What power does _Jim_ have that _I_ should be afraid?"

Sarah lifted her chin. She was fierce with pride. " _Jim_ is a guardian. Your son is _Lord_ Hawkins, guardian of the Outerworld, protector of Fantasia."

That time, Sarah smiled. "Oh yes Bandit. I would be _very_ afraid. And incidentally, Ariel – Jim's girlfriend – is Admiral Triton's daughter. His _favorite_ daughter."

Sinbad balked. He gaped at Sarah. Then suddenly he noticed the sails, spun about face, and barked at Marina.

"Marina! Is there a reason you're turning the damn ship around?"

Sinbad was answered by a shriek. But it was not Marina's.

It was a dragon's. Correction: it was several dragons, led by a red haired demon with black eyes and pointed ears.

Peter Pan.

"Captain! Captain!" Dimitri shouted tremulously over the crew, stumbling in his haste. "Sinbad – dragons – "

"MAN THE GUNS!" Sinbad snapped into fight mode. Snatching Marina like a predator, he dragged her from the helm. "SLACK OFF THE SHEETS I WANT EVERY SAIL TIED! DIMITRI! TULIO, BRING UP SMITHY, THAT BLONDE FANTASIAN DUDE! VLAD, ERET – I WANT EVERY HARPOON ON DECK NOW! _SARAH_ , YOU'VE GOT THE HELM! AND SARAH – "

Sinbad paused. He waited until Sarah had taken _The Princess'_ wheel; the heart of his (and her) ship.

"Sarah." Sinbad noted the harpoons. Then he glanced down.

"Does Jim have good aim?"

A confident affirmation later, Jim's blockades were withdrawn. Jim staggered unexpectedly from the cabin as Sinbad broke the locks and released the chains.

"Mom says you've got good aim. She also says you've got a girlfriend." Sinbad offered Jim a harpoon twice his height. "So if you ever want to see this girl again, I suggest you forget the past until we survive. We're under attack."

Sinbad turned.

"You're my first mate." he said as _The Princess_ lurched under a torrent of brimstone and fire. "Moment to be real is coming up, _Lord_ Hawkins."


	118. Chapter 118: Use The Force Luke

**Chapter 118: Use The Force Luke**

Sinbad was the man that ran away. He was the traitor, the scum, the son of a bitch. He was a smudge in time too dark to erase. He was not Jim's father.

But, he was a kick ass captain.

No matter how badly Jim wanted to stick the harpoon up Sinbad's spinal cord, he was impressed. Sinbad confronted danger with a tenacity rivaled only by Admiral Triton. There was just one difference between the two men: Sinbad was crazy.

"Drop the anchor! Put her down!" Sinbad strode firmly through his crew. One eye on the approaching dragons, he barked the order again. "I said DROP THE ANCHOR!"

"Drop the anchor?" Tulio emerged updeck with Eret. John Smith was tethered between them. As John focused on Jim, Tulio beseeched Sinbad. "Why are dropping anchor? Captain if we stop those dragons are going to burn us alive!"

Sinbad nabbed a harpoon as Vlad passed with an armful. "They'd burn us alive anyway, Tulio. There's no way we can outrun a dragon, and I don't like the looks of that flying demon."

Jim looked skyward, searching for the 'flying demon' and assuming Sinbad meant Pitch. But when he saw Peter, his stomach clenched. _Shit, that wasn't good. Peter was fast. He could dive straight into the ship and pick them off one by one._

 _Damn it._ Jim hefted his harpoon. _He'd kill for Ariel and Wendy right now. Ariel could zap Peter with her trident while Wendy worked his shadow. Huh…interesting. Those girls were actually pretty powerful. Hm._

"But why drop anchor?" Eret signaled to the dragons. The herd was small by Viking standards, but it would take just one to destroy _The Princess_. "Capn those are _monstrous nightmares_! Monstrous nightmares coat themselves with kerosene flames! If we drop anchor – "

"They all monstrous nightmares?" Sinbad asked.

"No. Least – don't think so."

"Yes or no, Eret! You're the only Viking on this ship, so you know dragons best. Are ALL of those dragons monstrous nightmares?"

Eret squint across the ocean. The tattoo on his chin crimped as he concentrated. "No." he finally answered, pointing within the flock. "Think that blue one is a thunderdrum."

"How dangerous is a thunderdrum?"

"Thunderdrums…ummm." Eret thought furiously. "I've never read the Book of Dragons… but I think Stoick had a thunderdrum once… yes! Expandable jaws – needle sharp teeth – "

"Yeah I can see that! _Firepower_ Eret! _Firepower_!" Sinbad tapped his throat. "Do thunderdrums breath fire?"

"No!" Eret snapped his fingers, remembering. "No thunderdrums are nearly deaf because they blow super sonic blasts of air!"

"When they're startled, right?"

"Right!"

"At close range the sonic blast can kill ya?"

"At least a concussion."

"But no fire?"

"No fire."

"Thought so!" Sinbad swung triumphantly about. "Thunderdrums are sea cave dwellers, I've seen 'em before. This is good! So here's what we're going to do – MEN! DROP THE ANCHOR!"

Tulio hyperventilated. "But why are we dropping the anchor? We're out too deep, it won't hit the bottom – "

"Just drop the damn anchor! And – " Sinbad flicked at John Smith. "Someone give Smitty a harpoon!"

Eret, Tulio, _and_ John Smith looked confused.

"Wait. So…" Tulio raised John's wrists. "With or without the shackles?"

"Without! Duh!" Sinbad pointed to the dragons. "How else is he going to fight? Smitty, you any good with a harpoon?"

"Yes."

"Okay, then you're in! Grab a harpoon, you're up top with me, Dimitri, and Jim. Oh yeah by the way – Eret, Tulio this is Jim – " Sinbad motioned. "I just made him first mate. If I die, he's in charge."

The pirates momentarily forgot the dragons. They stared between Jim and John Smith, stunned.

"You want us to free the Fantasians?" Eret finally restated, very perplexed. "Both of them?"

 _The Princess_ rocked. The waves seethed with dragon fire. The air turned red and raw.

Sinbad verified. " _Quickly_ would be nice. With Marina in chains and the mutineers with Ruber, we're short on manpower. Jim tried to free Smitty, so that's good enough for me. SO – "

Sinbad exchanged John Smith's shackles for a harpoon. "SO get your butts in gear! Eret, Tulio DROP THE ANCHOR! And Jim, Smitty FOLLOW ME! Everybody clear?"

The pirates nodded. They were apprehensive but Sinbad had made riskier decisions in the past. Dutifully, Tulio and Eret dove into the ruckus.

But John Smith did not move. Instead he looked at Jim.

"Lord Hawkins?"

Sinbad was impressed. From his naval stripes, Sinbad could see John Smith was a ranked captain – but he still deferred to Jim. Dragon or not, John Smith was not budging without Jim's permission.

However,

Jim was lost. He stared at Sinbad cold as ice, but nerves on fire. Critical seconds ticked away as Jim combed his memory for an answer, seeking the wisdom of Long John Silver, Headmaster Mickey, Merlin, King Arthur, Ariel, Wendy, hell even Admiral Triton –

"Jim." Sinbad was remarkably calm. "I _really_ don't want Mom to die here. Gonna help me beat these dragons or what?"

 _Jackpot._

Jim dawned. Sinbad almost saw the lightbulb go off as Jim remembered an adage of Long John Silver: _You lose a few things. Chasing a dream._ Translation: _Sinbad wants Sarah Hawkins – So Sinbad gonna have to deal with her son._

"Bring us back to Fantasia." Jim clarified before Sinbad could ask. "You want our help? Then you sail us back to Fantasia the _second_ we escape. After that…I want you to leave." Jim summoned every drop of hatred inside him. "I want you to leave and never come back. Finish what you started. Run away. And _stay_ away."

Something flickered across Sinbad's face, but the expression was too swift for Jim to catch. Covering his emotions with a confident smile, Sinbad clanked Jim's harpoon with his scimitar.

"Promise not to spear me?"

Jim _seriously_ considered. Finally,

"Whatever."

"Okay then." Sinbad extended his left hand. "It's a deal, Lord Hawkins. Or should I say…" Sinbad pressed the scar on his left palm against the identical scar on Jim's right. "…buccaneer."

Jim glowered. Murderously he returned Sinbad's handshake. Pain throbbed from his scar to his elbow as he gripped, trying to break Sinbad's bones. Sinbad squeezed right back, refusing to relent.

"You shake like a man." Sinbad grinned. "Who taught you that?"

Jim released. "Mom." he said as the dragons attacked.

 _The Princess_ lurched. Dragon fire blazed brilliantly across the ocean before sizzling into thick, black fumes. Embers popped into the sails, inflating the canvasses with heat and smothering the pirates in smoke. As the ship rocked, Jim quickly perceived why Sinbad had ordered the anchor be dropped – the anchor was weighting _The Princess_ like a pendulum. Without it, they would have capsized as the dragons struck and the ship swung.

"Dimitri!" Sinbad flapped his bandana, signaling to Dimitri across deck. Shoving John Smith portside, he pointed into the shrouds. "Dimitri take Smitty up! Okay, Jim – "

Sinbad mounted the rigging. He paused, making room. "You first! You're shooting, I'm covering! Get going!"

Jim fleetingly glimpsed his mother before Sinbad pulled him into the shrouds. Sarah was covered in ash, but maintaining steady hold of the helm. Suddenly, Peter slivered through the smoke. Sarah ducked as he swooped, barely avoiding capture as Peter disappeared.

Jim hesitated. He flinched uncertainly towards his mother.

Suddenly, Sinbad shook his boot. "Jim, she'll be fine!"

Jim looked down. Sinbad nodded comfortingly, but gave another urgent shake. "Mom and I have done this before, she knows what to do. I promise she'll be fine, but we _need_ to stop these dragons."

Sinbad gripped Jim's harpoon. Slowly he gave instructions. He spoke clearly and soothingly, just like the first time he taught Jim to fly a solar surfer. "Here's the plan. Look up. See all of those dragons? See how they are flocking over the mast? Okay – one of those dragons is a _thunderdrum_. Blue, circular, long spikey tail."

Jim scanned the dragons. Sinbad waited for him to find the thunderdrum before continuing.

"Thunderdrums don't breathe fire. _But_ , when a thunderdrum is threatened it will emit a super sonic boom. _Really_ loud noise that can kill at close range. So – "

Again, Sinbad gripped Jim's harpoon. "You are going to hit the thunderdrum with this harpoon. That will do two things. _One_ , the harpoon will kill the thunderdrum. Two – "

"It will kill the other dragons." Jim suddenly understood. "The thunderdrum will scream when it's hit, killing the other dragons at close range."

Sinbad nodded. "Exactly. After that, Mom is going to sail us to safety, she's a whiz with coordinates. Savvy, savvy Skywalker?"

"Yeah okay Da – " Jim caught himself. He stopped before saying _Dad_. "Got it." Gruffly, he climbed the burning ropes. "But that still doesn't take care of Peter."

"The flying demon? Yeah." Sinbad scuttled behind Jim. "Ginger seems like an asshole."

Jim almost smiled. "You have no idea."

"Well I have _one_ idea." Sinbad tucked a pistol under Jim's belt. Jim felt the deadweight of six lead bullets as Sinbad spoke. "My two favorite words: _pest control_."

Jim stalled. Realizing what Sinbad was insinuating, he glanced at the pistol.

"Dragons first." Sinbad patted the pistol. "Flying demon second. Just cock back the hammer, pull the trigger, and let her fly. There's a full cartridge in there – make the demon as _holey_ as you want."

Jim didn't respond. Ignoring Sinbad's lighthearted play on words, he continued to climb – harpoon in his hand and pistol on his hip.

The ascent was suffocating. Fire swirled across every topmast and yard. Jim blinked constantly to keep his eyes from boiling. It was impossible to _see_ let alone find the thunderdrum amidst the chaos. But Sinbad pressed on, supporting the small of Jim's back when he became lightheaded with smoke. Twice Jim fell as the ropes burned beneath him. But each time Sinbad was there, bolstering Jim until he reached the sturdiest rung.

"Almost there!" Sinbad crawled through the crossfire. Scimitar glowing red in the firelight, he cheered. "Hand over fist Jim! Keep going, hand over fist!"

Jim coughed. Soot clogged his lungs. His shoulder ached from wielding the harpoon. But he obeyed. Teeth grit, Jim clibed the rigging with rapid 'hand over hand' motions.

"Atta boy, atta boy almost there." Sinbad peered over Jim. Metallic dragon bellies flashed dimly through the smoke. Scanning the shimmering hides, Sinbad waited until he saw the thunderdrum's blue scales. Once identified, he waited for the thunderdrum to pass one – two – three times more –

"Every seventeen seconds!" Sinbad hollered over the roaring flames. "Jim the thunderdrum circles the mast every seventeen seconds! Did you see it?"

Jim teetered his harpoon. "Blue scales?"

"Dark blue, yeah that's the bastard! The next pass it makes, I want you to aim for – Jim _head down_!"

Jim reacted immediately as Sinbad yelled, lowering his chin as a monstrous nightmare ripped across the mizzen mast, directly astern. Peter Pan followed, dagger slicing Sinbad's arm as he threw it protectively over Jim.

"Speaking of bastards!" Sinbad flicked his forearm. Blood squirted from the dagger wound. "Arrrrrrrrrrrgh! Son of a freaking elf!"

Jim's chest was pounding. Peter's dagger had been aimed at his face. "You okay?!"

"Yeah no problem, chics love scars!" Sinbad sucked his wound. Spitting blood, he nodded at the dragons. They were closer. Much closer. "Now or never, Jim! Harpoon up!"

Jim readied his harpoon. _Flash!_ The thunderdrum darted overhead. Jim jerked and fumbled, unaccustomed to the harpoon's bulk. Before he could recover, the thunderdrum passed again, this time followed by a monstrous nightmare that blinded Jim with flames. Slightly panicked, Jim scuffled with the harpoon. He fingered the shaft, desperately trying to coordinate his movements –

"Jim. Calm down. Here…" Sinbad adjusted the harpoon, sliding it along Jim's hand. "Tell me when it feels balanced. Balance point is usually two-thirds towards the point. Here? Here? Or here?"

Jim swallowed. Dragon fire churning overhead, he forced himself to concentrate on the harpoon's weight.

"There." he finally croaked. The harpoon sat perfectly poised in his palm (two thirds towards the point, just as Sinbad had said). "Yeah. It's balanced now."

"Good boy. Okay – full grip around the shaft, but ride your thumb along the bottom. That will create a lever."

Jim nodded. He curled his fingers, extended his thumb.

"Brace yourself." Sinbad propped a shoulder under Jim's spine. "Lean back into me."

Jim did.

"Raise the harpoon to ear level."

Jim did.

"Align your sight with the tip."

Jim did.

"Three seconds…throw straight…follow through…two seconds…one second…" Sinbad smiled at an old, happy memory. "Use the Force Luke."

Jim tensed, retracted his arm, glared through a heartbroken tear, and flung the harpoon at the thunderdrum.

 _Thud_. The harpoon hit.

Sinbad didn't wait. Seizing Jim, he leapt into the ocean, using the water to muffle the thunderdrum's deafening cry. The sonic blast reverberated they tread desperately after _The Princess_ , swimming through the dragons that crashed into the ocean –

-all of them dead. Sinbad's plan had worked. The dragons were defeated. They were safe.

Almost.

As father and son were fished victoriously aboard, both looked through the elated applause for Sarah.

They found her – unconscious in Peter Pan's arms. And as Peter carried Sarah from the ship, he dropped a message-in-a-bottle in her place.

"No!" Jim sprinted over the bottle. Running bow to stern, he remembered Sinbad's pistol – ripped the firearm from his belt – cocked the hammer – aimed the scope at Peter skull –

\- and didn't shoot.

"Damn it Wendy!" Jim gripped the handle. He steadied with both hands. He _willed_ himself to yank the trigger, to blow Peter Pan's arrogant, cocky, smug, disgusting head apart.

But he couldn't.

However, Sinbad could.

At least he tried. He twisted the pistol from Jim and fired. And had he been a breath closer, Peter Pan would be dead.

They watched helplessly. Sarah vanished with Peter, into the shadows.

"Oh no you don't." Smoke curled from Sinbad's pistol. "Not _my girl_ you don't. MATES! Weigh anchor! Set sail for Fantasia! We are rescuing Sarah – "

Sinbad seized Peter's message-in-a-bottle. Lethally, he shattered the amber glass and removed the paper inside. "—and I don't care who dies in the process. MOVE IT! SET SAIL! Set – "

Sinbad paused. Jaw stiffening, he silently read the message. It was from Pitch Black.

 _ **You want her?**_

 _ **Bring me the star grinder and shadow worker.**_

 _ **Either will do.**_

 _ **One for her body. Two for her soul.**_

 _ **Avalon.**_

 _ **Hurry.**_

Sinbad clenched the paper. He could _feel_ Pitch laughing, _see_ his evil smirk inside the script.

"Avalon." Sinbad turned to the helm, note crumpled in his fist. "Set sail for Avalon."

Suddenly, Jim spoke. "What does he want?"

Sinbad waited to reply. He took his time setting the course, determining wind speeds, and assessing the tattered sails.

Finally, palm rest upon the wheel-spoke, he answered Jim with a question.

"You the star grinder?"

Silence. "Yeah."

"Outerworld guardian?""

"Yeah."

"Huh. Then he wants you." Sinbad grinned over his shoulder. "So we're gonna have to be tricky. _No way_ Pitch is swindling me out of a first mate again. So we'll use wits and leverage."

"Leverage?" Jim frowned through his bangs. "What leverage?"

"Don't worry about it. Just come here…"

Sinbad stepped aside. _Neglecting_ to mention Pitch's second demand (the shadow worker), he offered Jim the helm. "Let me teach you how to sail."

 **... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ...**

 **sultal's note: Chapter inspired by the song "Eldorado" Two Steps from Hell, which was sent to me WAYYY back (I think in fall or winter) by LadyAnne23.**

 **FYI - Thunderdrums ARE in the Book of Dragon, according to the TV series and HTTYD website. And yes, they do emit super sonic blasts instead of fire, and they ARE nearly deaf creatures, and Chief Stoick DID own a thunderdrum called Thornado at one point (before Skullcrusher). Yes - I am obsessed. Currently seeking treatment. ;P keep writing.**


	119. Chapter 119: I'm Still Here

**Chapter 119: I'm Still Here**

A billion stars filled the sky. The night was dusted with diamonds. The moon was frosted with gold. Even _The Princess_ looked pretty as she limped across the ocean, starlight on her sails and sparkles in her wake. The breeze was sweet, the current was kind, and the pirates shared a tankard whilst singing ancient songs...

It was a glorious, sentimental night. And after the battle, it was a night meant to be spent amongst friends.

But one sailor was spending it alone.

Sinbad watched Jim from below. Jim had climbed for the stars, settling as close as possible without actually flying into them. He'd found purchase on the foremast crosstree (two horizontal beams at the upper end of the foremast that had miraculously survived the dragon attack).

Jim had ascended without an explanation. At first, Sinbad suspected Jim left to avoid him. Perhaps he needed solace in Sarah's absence. But when minutes turned to hours, and hours turned to midnight, Sinbad became worried. No one could sulk that long. Plus, Jim hadn't eaten dinner!

Then Sinbad head a dull _thump...thump...thump_. And he discovered the real reason Jim left.

Jim was practicing with the harpoon. Over and over; throw after throw; Jim kept reliving the moment he fumbled and needed Sinbad's help. He kept practicing... so he wouldn't need help again.

"Thick skin, soft heart. Geeze Jim..." Sinbad rotated the wheel. The wind pushed the sails from Jim's face. So bright were the stars, Sinbad could see Jim's frown by their light.

"Hm." Sinbad fingered his seashell necklace. The enchanted shell glowed as he contemplated. Finally, Sinbad called. "Hey Dimitri. Step up, you're at the wheel. Smitty – you know how to sail?"

"Yes."

"Get your butt over here." Sinbad beckoned to John Smith. "Dimitri's gonna train you in _pirate_ style sailing. In one hour you'll be a superstar. Savvy, savvy?"

John Smith saluted. Fighting alongside the pirates had reinvigorated his adventurous spirit (something Captain Eric and Admiral Triton discouraged). John Smith was ready to give piracy a whirl. "Aye, aye Captain. Both eyes open for Fantasia at twenty knots."

"Faster if you can, I've got a need for speed." Sinbad exchanged spots with the two men. Pausing only to clap John Smith's shoulder, he snatched a beer from Eret (Vikings: big drinkers), a second beer from Tulio (Spaniards: bigg _er_ drinkers).

Beers tucked under an arm, he ascended the shrouds.

It was a long way up, especially with the burned rigging and tattered sails. Sinbad had to be _creative_ with his climb. But the journey could have lasted forever – Sinbad _still_ didn't know what to say when he reached Jim.

He took the ' _drinking - buddies_ ' approach.

"It's not cold." Sinbad tossed a beer. "But it's wet."

If Jim was startled, he hid it well. Catching the beer mid throw, he lowered the harpoon.

"Thanks."

"No problem. You a drinker?"

"Whatever."

"Oh...kay...good." Sinbad wavered on the ratline. He gauged Jim's behavior, searching for a threat. Finally, determining the scene safe, Sinbad _slowly_ eased onto the crosstree. He adjusted carefully, making sure that he and Jim were separated by the mast.

"Well, _a man may drink and not be drunk._ Bottoms up." Sinbad snapped his beer. The golden liquid sprayed as he toasted the moon. "To Mom. We're coming to get you, Sarah. Just hold on..."

Sinbad sipped his beer. "Hold on."

It was slushy and romantic, and Sinbad was sure Jim would belittle his toast. But he didn't. Very solemnly, Jim opened his beer.

"To Mom." he agreed quietly.

Sinbad echoed. "To Mom."

They shared a long drink.

Then they shared a longer silence.

Jim held the silence well but Sinbad was immediately uncomfortable. Silence signified three things to Sinbad: (1) Quiet before the storm, (2) Boredom, (3) Death.

Sinbad hated all three. So he chose to endure the discomfort of confrontation.

"So." Sinbad wound his seashell necklace. "Always so hard on yourself?"

"What?"

Sinbad indicated Jim's harpoon. "You turned the thunderdrum into my two favorite words: _dead meat_. Why target practice?"

Jim frowned. Mutely, he dropped the harpoon, letting it swing from the cord he'd knotted around the shaft (to keep it from falling).

"I screwed up the first time." he replied.

Sinbad shrugged. "It _was_ your _first_ time."

"Doesn't matter."

"It's _okay_ to screw up."

"Not when it counts."

"Jim don't sweat it." Sinbad sloshed his beer encouragingly. "I was right there for you."

The words popped the second he said them. Sinbad could almost hear the ironic laughing, screaming, and crying. _I was right there for you._ _After all these years I was there like a good daddy. Yeah. What a joke._

"Um." Sinbad searched for an escape. Had his legs not been tangled in the ratline, he would have jumped overboard. "Guess...drink up. There's grub down below, if you want. Don't know if Mom still sets curfew. Probably not. But ...you know...get some shut eye. I'll...I'll just..."

"How'd you meet?"

Sinbad hesitated. Jim had been abrupt. So abrupt, Sinbad wasn't sure he'd actually spoken. "How's that?"

"Mom." Jim glared into the ocean. Hunched from Sinbad, he clarified. "How did you meet Mom?"

The tension broke. But Sinbad remained cautious. "You don't know this story?"

Jim gave a look which translated to: _No that's why I asked_. As Sinbad disclosed, Jim's eyes flickered momentarily to the enchanted seashell necklace. Still unable to pinpoint it's significance, he listened distractedly as Sinbad spoke.

"I met Mom in a bar. The Benbow actually."

Jim forgot the necklace. It seemed ironic: he had met _Ariel_ in a bar. The Benbow, actually.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah." Sinbad downed his beer. After a steadying drink, he continued. "Mom didn't own the Benbow at that time. She was just there with friends – two girls and a guy. I remember them. Girls were Eudora and Mary -"

"Mary Darling?"

"Sure, guess so. Rosy cheeks, stuffy accent, wicked sweetheart, engaged to a prick."

"Wow. Huh. I think that was... okay and Eudora? Tiana's mom?"

"No idea who Tiana is."

"She's – forget it. So who was the other friend? The guy?"

"Ah. _Him_." Sinbad darkened. "That was Mom's _best friend_. Dark skinned, cheesy smile, good cook – his family actually _owned_ the Benbow. And..." Sinbad muttered into his beer. "His name was James."

Jim's stomach fluttered. "Wait – _James_? So...?"

"Yup." Sinbad took a second, scornful swig. "You were named after Mom's _best friend_."

Jim was speechless. Such was his astonishment, he didn't notice Sinbad's irritation.

"Wow. Who was James again?"

"Mom's bestie."

"Yeah but _who_? Last name? Do I know him?"

"Probably not." Sinbad wiped his goatee. "James died right before I left. Captain Hook was on the loose, killing kids born on the first of the season. James died trying to save one of them. Girl I think, born on the first of fall. Whatever. Rest in peace blah blah blah."

Jim frowned. When Sinbad said " _first of fall_ ," he thought of Wendy and suddenly realized that Sinbad said " _best friend"_ the same way Peter did: contemptuously.

"So you didn't like him?"

"Like who?"

"James?"

"Nope." Sinbad flicked his beer tab. "Zip. Zero. Zilch."

"Why?" Jim asked defensively. After all, James was his namesake. "He propose to Mom or something?"

Sinbad snorted. "No. James married Eudora. They had a kid – girl I think."

Jim nodded, mentally identifying ' _James'_ as Tiana's father. "Okay, so why'd you hate him?"

"Because he was always around!" Sinbad crunched his beer can. "God it was annoying! After I kidnapped Mom to marry her – "

"Kidnapped?"

"—then followed her back to Fantasia, James wouldn't leave us alone! He didn't trust me to be the provider. He sold us the Benbow – _great_. He got Sarah a scholarship to teach astronomy with Delbert– _great_. He cooked late night dinners – _great_. He babysat – _great_. God. One time I caught Mom crying into his shoulder... so I told him to leave."

"Leave?"

"Like a tree. Told him to leave and never come back."

"But Mom was just crying. Right?"

"Right. But she wasn't crying on me." Sinbad scowled at the stars. "They say finding a best friend is like finding a shamrock. A shamrock is special. A shamrock is one of a kind. But that's just it. There is just _one_. One. Singular. A best friend is like that one shamrock. But...a husband and wife ..."

Sinbad arched is arm. "A husband and wife are like a rainbow and pot of gold. You need two for something as rare, beautiful, and lucrative as true love."

Sinbad paused, fingers suspended over the stars. "Geeze, was that sappy or what?"

Jim stared broodingly into his beer. "No. Makes sense. I guess. Just..." His frown deepened, but seemed more contemplative than vexed. "Whatever. I don't think James was way off. He was just trying to be her friend. He was just trying to - "

"Do my job?" Sinbad shook his head. "No way. I wanted to be Mom's hero. Not him. Best friend had to go. So I made him. Simple as that. Buh-bye James."

Sinbad took a drink. Wrathfully, he spit into the ocean.

Jim quietly stirred his beer. Presently, he whispered, "Is that why you left?"

Sinbad touched an ear. "Come again? Little louder, didn't hear?"

Silence.

Jim cleared his throat.

Again silence.

Then,

"Why did you leave?"

Bracing himself for the answer, Jim spoke to the stars. "Did you leave because I was named after James?"

Sinbad stared. Then faintly, _so_ faintly, he replied.

"I didn't leave because you were named after James. I left... because of you."

A valve in Jim went off. Sinbad could almost see the bitterness pumping through his veins.

He had to work fast. In one more second, he'd lose his son forever.

"Jim. This is my story but this is the truth. Yes, I left. But I left because Captain Hook wanted you dead. So I pretended to kill you. I pretended to run from the law. And I pretended not to care... so you wouldn't follow... so you wouldn't be in danger... so you would never meet Captain Hook."

Sinbad pointed gently to Jim's scar. "Obviously I failed. But at least you're alive... and better off, or so I hear. Jim Hawkins... _guardian_ of Fantasia. And..." Sinbad twinkled. "With a girlfriend."

Jim blinked hard. He refused to cry, but mention of Ariel nearly ripped him apart. He was angry. He was heartbroken. And he missed Ariel so, _so_ much.

"You _left_." Jim felt himself opening, becoming raw and vulnerable. He growled to keep from crying. "You left us, it doesn't matter why. You left, you ran away, you son of a bitch you never came back – "

"Jim." Sinbad gently interrupted. "If I had really wanted to leave, don't you think I would be gone by now?"

Jim looked at his father. Straight in the eye.

Sinbad smiled. "I'm still here."

Jim held his breath. He exhaled once –

\- and was too weak to fight the tears. The best he could do was nod into his hand when Sinbad asked if he wanted to talk.

 **... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ..** **... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ...**

 **sultal's note: "A man may drink and not be drunk" is from 'The Parting Glass' by Ed Sheeran**


	120. Chapter 120: Sad But True

**Chapter 120: Sad But True**

Jim wanted to know everything. Luckily, Sinbad also wanted to know everything so they made a trade. Sinbad answered Jim's questions, then Jim answered his.

Sinbad's story was a classic tale of ' _sad but true_.'

"I joined Captain Hook when I was eighteen. Remember, I'm from the Otherland." Sinbad tapped his pirate scar. "When Otherland kids turn eighteen, they enter adulthood. Adults are not protected by the Otherland guardians, but children are. Since I lost my magical protection, I joined Captain Hook. That's not uncommon – most Otherlanders join gangs for protection when they turn eighteen."

Jim rubbed his own scar. "Why piracy?"

"Girls! Why else?" Sinbad teased his past self. "I was an eighteen year old hotshot and girls love pirates! Of all the careers, piracy is the most romantic! Come on Jim – every girl goes through the pirate craze! Didn't you know that?"

Jim considered. Then he grinned, just a little. _Yup. Wendy definitely went through an 'I Love Pirates' phase. Hell – she made him watch Pirates of the Caribbean as many times as he made her watch Star Wars._

"So Mom was..." Jim grimaced. "...pirate crazy?"

"Ha! Nooooooo." Sinbad x'd his arms. "Big fat no. Mom was not a pirate fan. That's why I ditched Captain Hook. Mom was too smart for her own good. She thought school was boring, she couldn't wait to get out of the rut – which is why I liked her. Well, that amongst _other_ things."

Jim continued before Sinbad's grin could turn criminal.

"Why did you kidnap Mom?"

"For fun." said Sinbad. After a moment, he revised. "And because James – her best friend –"

"Tiana's dad."

"Whatever. James didn't like me and neither did Eudora. Mary was always chill, but James had more clout. It was a weird dynamic. Mom and James were best friends - Eudora and Mary were best friends. So when Eudora and James started dating – Mom and Mary became friends. I dunno – weird."

"Anyway..." Sinbad resumed. "I jumped into _that_ little quartet: _James, Eudora, Mary, and Mom._ I met all of them, they met all of me, and I couldn't have cared less that James didn't like my style. So I kidnapped you momma, set all sails, and we were married before neap tide!"

Sinbad waited for applause. Jim surprised him.

"What was Mary like?"

"Huh?"

"Mary." Jim made two small loops behind his head, miming a bow. "Mary Darling? Did I ever meet her? Was she nice?"

Sinbad raised a brow, confused by Jim's miming but understanding his intrigue. "Oh yeah. Mom said she adopted Mary's kids."

"Yeah. Wendy, John, and Michael. They're awesome. So I was just wondering – was Mary nice?"

Sinbad nodded. "Mary was an angel. Literally an angel. She had this... I dunno _talent_ for finding people's good side. She could make you feel like the coolest person in the world. Ha ha – it was always a _jolly, holiday with Mary_!"

Jim smiled. He thought about Wendy and drew similarities. While Wendy had strict reservations (like her father), she was always the first to pay a compliment (like her mother).

"She sounds nice."

"Mary was _beyond_ nice." Sinbad suddenly calmed. "After we had you, Mom ran back to Fantasia. She was scared. I was scared. Neither of us expected you, and we had different ideas about settling down. I wanted to raise you on the ship. Mom said no – no more adventures. We...well we fought. And..."

Sinbad rubbed his neck. "Mom took you and ran. And interestingly she didn't run to James or Eudora. She ran to Mary. That's where I found you – Mary's home."

Jim was captivated. "How old was I?"

"By that time? Almost three." Sinbad fingered his seashell necklace. Humorously, he grunted. "Good thing Mary's husband was driving Mom nuts. Otherwise, I don't know if she would have left! I'd have to kidnap you both all over again."

Again, Jim was interested. "You knew Mr. Darling?"

"Mary's husband? Yeah. _Yeesh_." Sinbad shuddered. " _That_ guy was worse than James. I tried to set Mary up with a few pirate buddies, but she was in an arranged marriage. Plus, Mary _actually_ loved her husband. Don't know why...I offered her Vlad."

Sinbad chuckled at the memory. But Jim did not. It was strange to think that he and Wendy had met when they were toddlers, before either could remember. Privately, Jim tried to envision their first encounter – him a bedraggled pirate boy and her a delicate little girl.

"So..." Jim frowned. "Why didn't I know Mary or Wendy before? Why didn't I ever meet James, Eudora, or Tiana? I was eleven when you left. That's eight years in-between. Why did we live alone?"

"I told you." Sinbad sliced his throat. "James got the axe. I forbade him from Mom. That made everyone...a bit mad, Mom included. But I have to give her credit – Mom defended me. I made her choose between me and her friends, and she chose me. She chose us."

"What about Mary?" Jim cocked his head. "You liked her, right?"

"Mary worked with Eudora. They were seamstresses. Eudora was married to James. It was easier to keep everyone out. Plus, I didn't like Elmer."

"Elmer?"

"Mary's husband."

"George."

"Close enough."

"So that was it?" Jim asked, honestly feeling Sinbad's ultimatum was harsh. "You just pushed them all away? Hid our family in the crummiest part of Fantasia?"

Sinbad ground his forehead. "I _definitely_ tried. Jim, do you remember what I did for a living?"

"Fished?"

"Yes. And you know why I decided to keep The Benbow, even though we were living in The Docks? The crummiest part of Fantasia?"

Jim thought logically. He reviewed the story. Suddenly he saw Sinbad's pirate scar.

His brain _clicked_.

"Information?" Jim guessed. "You were still worried about Captain Hook?"

Sinbad smiled proudly. "Right. Fishermen are rough, salty characters. If Captain Hook was coming, I'd hear it from them first."

"And he did." Jim said, remembering Sinbad's previous comment. "You said Captain Hook wanted me dead. So you pretended to kill me... and left."

"Yes. But..." Sinbad fidgeted. "But Captain Hook came once before. When I chased Mom to Mary's house...Hook followed. He followed me to Fantasia, snuck aboard my ship. Hook... wanted to kill a little girl. A little girl born on the first of summer. A daughter...of Admiral Triton."

 _Daughter. Triton. First of Summer._

Jim breathed. "Ariel. Oh my god. It was Ariel."

Sinbad laughed. "Seems too freaky to be true, huh?"

Jim leaned hungrily. "What happened?"

Sinbad didn't respond. Jim asked again. Still nothing. It was only after Jim's third insistence, did Sinbad reluctantly share.

"Athena Triton – Admiral Triton's wife. Athena hired me...to stage...to fake..."

Sinbad inadvertently brought his wedding ring to his mouth. "Athena hired me to stage an escape. She left her daughter at home... we boarded my ship...pretended her daughter was with us... Hook followed...we were suppose to lose him... but there was a storm. Hook blew my ship apart ...Athena... didn't survive."

Neither spoke. Ocean waves filled the silence.

Finally, Sinbad sighed. "Hope Ariel is pretty, kid. Because Admiral Triton is never going to forgive our family for Athena's death. Ariel better be worth it."

Jim warmed. "Oh. She _is_."

Sinbad perked. Jim's tone was definitely dreamy and almost...wolfish. "Oh yeah?"

"Oh. _Yes_." Jim smiled ear to ear. "Ariel is _hot_."

"Hot?" Sinbad demanded a description. Jim was only too happy to comply.

"She's got this..." Jim scrunched his head. "This amazing h _air_! And she's got these..." He made starbursts. "These gorgeous _eyes_! And her...her..."

Jim paused, searching for a tasteful word. Finally, he just gushed. "Her _body_..."

Sinbad laughed. Jim was pining and he was pining _hard_.

Heartily, Sinbad ruffled Jim's bangs. "You are _definitely_ your father's son! Propose yet?"

"Um..."

"Man up kid, get her while she's hot."

Jim actually blushed. Sinbad playfully clipped his cheek. "Okay Luke Skywalker, it's my turn for questions. Number one – do you still love _Star Wars_?"

"Yes."

"Ever get that solar surfer to work?"

"Multiple times."

"I've seen your criminal record, did you know that? I actually bailed you out of jail for punching that Peter Pie creep."

"His name is Peter Pan. That was you?"

"Yerp!"

"Cool. Thanks."

"Eh, what are dads for? So why the heck do you keep getting arrested?"

Jim shrugged. "I'm my father's son?"

Sinbad hooted. "Fair enough! Fair enough! Okay so here's a big question – you are a Fantasian guardian? Savvy, savvy?"

"Yes."

"People call you _Lord_ Hawkins?"

"Yes."

"Jim do you like to dance?"

"Uh...not really."

"Uh huh. Okay, so here is my question..." Sinbad tapped his lips. Congenially, he inquired. "Why the hell would you ever go by star _GRINDER_?"

Jim blinked. Sinbad pursed, withholding his laughter.

Finally Jim smiled. "I was the spacer that annihilated your ship and kicked your ass."

They laughed. They laughed so hard, neither heard Dimitri yell as he ignited the cannon.

"Captain! Sinbad! Look up! Into the moon! That flying demon is back! BOMBS AWAY!"

The cannon exploded. A cannonball punched through the fireworks, knocking Pips and Wendy out of the sky.

 **... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ...**

 **sultal's note: This "history" of Sinbad, Sarah, Mary, James, Eudora was breifly mentioned in "Making Fantasia: 12 Days of Christmas" and in previous chapters of this book (Sarah says she use to hang with Mary and Eudora, Triton blames Sinbad for Athena's death, Sinbad pities 'poor Athena' yatta yatta). I've started writing the "Making Fantasia" story for Mary, George, Eudora, Sinbad, Sarah, Delbert it should be up by next Christmas.**


	121. Ch121: Miss Darling's Infamous Left Hook

**Chapter 121: Miss Darling's _Infamous_ Left Hook**

Pips introduced Wendy to 'fear of heights.'

More appropriately, Pips introduced Wendy to fear of _flights_.

Wendy had never been afraid of flying before. But Pips put her nerves to the test. Unlike Peter, Pips took perilous liberties. For instance, when _Peter_ flew, he held Wendy _tight_. Pips did not. When he got tired, Pips would unexpectedly shift, adjust, jounce, and even dangle Wendy to stretch his sore muscles.

Wendy tried to be sympathetic. After all, Pips was flying her hundreds of miles, and his wings (like any other muscle in the body), became fatigued. Although she was terrified, Wendy allowed Pips to intermittently drop and catch her – giving his wings rest. However, when Pips started to abuse the privilege, Wendy insisted the games stop.

Pips reluctantly complied. The journey continued.

Hours turned into days. Days turned into long mornings and longer nights. And as they stretched over the ocean, Wendy wondered,

"Pips? Do you sleep?"

"Sleep? Sure." Pips flicked his hair. "Ferngullians are like dolphins – our brain turns off and wings go on autopilot. Dolphins swim and sleep – Ferngullians fly and sleep. So when _you_ take your eight hour snooze, I sleep for two."

"Is that enough?"

"It's too much. Ferngullians are light sleepers. Plus, we're nocturnal."

"That makes sense." Wendy reasoned. "Peter doesn't – well I've heard he doesn't sleep."

"Only heard, huh? Never experienced?" Evilly, Pips pinched. He quickly changed the flight route before Wendy could scold. "Okay Toots, hold on…"

Pips glided over a monstrous swell. He was flying at an angle, approximately forty-five degrees between the ocean and sky. The position allowed him to fly aerodynamically while cradling Wendy, but he was still greatly exposed to the wind.

"Oh nuts. Not again." Pips swerved through a gust. His long hair plastered his face. "Stupid hair. Toots, can you get that?"

Wendy complied. As Pips hovered, she parted his hair. "Better?"

"Couple hairs stuck in my mouth."

"Now?"

"Nailed it. I think. Lemmie check." Pips licked his lips, searching for loose strands. He didn't find any. Satisfied Pips looked at Wendy – and winked. "Thanks Toots."

Wendy blushed. "You're welcome." she replied, looking tartly away. "Now, I _believe_ we were going that way."

"Oh do you? Ha ha. Geeze." Pips swooped lazily ahead. "You _really_ think I'm cute, don'cha Tootsie?"

"I _really_ think you are a flirt." Wendy retorted, "And I _really_ think it runs in your family."

"Kinda like red hair, pointy ears, irresistible smiles, and sexy eyebrows, right?"

"Along with inflated egos, inappropriate senses of humor, and immaturity."

"Toots you are _hilarious_." Pips kicked, assisting the propulsion of his wings. "One second you're worried that I'm not sleeping, and then the next second you're insulted that I made you blush."

"You did not make me blush."

"You're blushing now."

"I am _not_."

"Toots I can see it by the moonlight!"

"Oh for _heaven's_ sake."

"Does Peter have this much fun riling you up?"

"Pips this is not funny!"

"Toots it's okay that you think I'm a hunk. Just admit it!"

"Alright, fine!" Wendy consented. Taking a leaf from Jim's book, she confronted Pips with outright honesty. "Yes I think you are very attractive. You look exactly like Peter, everything about you reminds me of him! Happy?"

Pips cooed. "Aww."

"Aww?" Wendy sulked. "What does _aww_ mean?"

Pips shrugged. "I think it's adorable that Peter makes you blush. Heck – I wish Crysta would blush when she looked at me."

Wendy was taken aback. "Oh. Pips I'm sorry."

"Ha. Why?"

"Well…I mean… I'm sure Crysta thinks you're attractive. Even though she doesn't blush."

"Puh. Crysta is a babe." Pips brooded. "She don't want me."

The unhappy thought had a deflating effect. Pips gradually lost altitude. Sailing closer to the ocean, Pips glanced at the water. Suddenly he brightened.

"Hey Toots. Wanna ski?"

Wendy absolutely did not. Since the mermaid attack in high school, she feared deep water. However, Pips looked hopeful…and Wendy wanted to ease the gloomy moment.

"Alright." Tentatively, Wendy accepted Pips' hands. "Just, please don't let go."

"No worries." Pips lowered Wendy by her wrists. With a comforting squeeze, he promised. "I gotcha."

Wendy was cynical. And afraid. But it was actually lovely. Suspended securely by Pips, Wendy relaxed. Her boots skimmed the ocean, making sparkly little splashes.

Wendy smiled. Experimentally she pretended to run over the water. Pips joined the game, bobbing up and down to exaggerate Wendy's impact and stride.

 _Pans._ Wendy thought, returning to Pips' arms. _They don't like to be sad. They prefer happiness. They enjoy having fun._

Wendy curled against Pips as he flew. Their argument had been one of many since the start of the voyage, but Wendy didn't feel that she owed him an apology. Pips was sarcastic and crude. However, she was still sad. Pips had opened to her about Crysta. She had to say _something_.

Suddenly Wendy thought of Peter.

"Pips." Wendy said, voice lifting in revelation. "Have you told Crysta?"

Pips tensed. "Told Crysta what?"

"That you love her?"

Wendy waited for his reaction. She counted to three in her head, anticipating an outburst. When Pips got mad, Wendy knew she was right. _Pans – emotions are toxins. Saying 'I Love You' is unforgiveable. Especially when it's true._

"Geeze is _love_ your favorite word?" Pips spiked upwards. Angrily, he started to rant. "Mushy, gushy girl – just like Thumbelina! Geezum – poor Peter having to put up with this _lovely dovey clingy_ crap. I feel bad for the kid. No wonder he dumped you – "

Pips stopped. He made an indiscriminate noise, realizing he'd gone too far but too proud to apologize.

"Ahhhhgh. Um." Pips swallowed, wishing Wendy would respond in her prim, prissy way. But she didn't. She glared into the moon, furiously withholding tears.

Pips felt _awful_. "Look…um... okay. Maybe I was a little – "

"You were entirely correct. Peter _dumped_ me."

Wendy exhaled. The statement was almost cleansing. So she purged.

"He _dumped_ me, he _dumped_ me, he _dumped_ me. I was the one that was _lovely_ _dovey_ and _clingy_. I was the one that said _I love you_ over and over again, because it _is_ my _favorite word_ and I wanted to hear it back. But Peter Pan _dumped_ me. So tell me Pips Pan – "

Wendy looked. "—who was braver? Who had to put up with the _crap_?"

Pips was stunned. So stunned, he drifted right into a pirate ship.

And a cannonball.

 **... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ...**

"Pips!"

Wendy screamed as they hit. Pips crumpled beneath her, wings snapping against the deck. Almost immediately his wings bruised. Blood swelled inside the transparent tissue, staining the glimmer with black, purple, and red.

Pips cringed. Arm still around Wendy he arched his back, rolled a shoulder, painfully flapped a wing, and lost consciousness.

The pirates cheered as Pips and Wendy slumped.

Then they pounced.

"Pips! No!" Wendy slid backwards. Pulled by her ankle, she clawed for Pips as the pirate dragged her away. "Pips! Wake up! Pips you have to fly, you have to – get OFF of me!"

Wendy yanked the pirate's shadow. _Flash! She saw an unhappy memory, a treasure chest sinking into the sea. The pirate sobbed as his gold twinkled into the depths._

"Miscreant!"

Disgusted by the pirate's greed, Wendy twisting free. She darted into the fray, lunging desperately for Pips. It wasn't easy – the pirates were packed like a bricks. Swarmed together, they laughed cruelly at Pips' "pretty wings." Someone spit. Someone snorted. Another used Pips' wing as a tissue.

Wendy seized their shadows, _soundly_ ending the fun.

She almost won.

And then a cloud covered the moon.

No more light. No more shadows.

"Drat." Wendy whispered. The shadows melted from her hands. Her power dissolved. Taking one step back, Wendy swore _for_ _real_ as the pirates attacked. "Oh dear _shit_."

Her profanity was justified. The pirates were brutal. Although they had _no idea_ what Wendy was, or how she had hurt them, they didn't care. Viciously, they tried to rip Wendy apart. They wrenched back her arms, cranked back her head, shoved a pistol up her stomach and a revolver inside her mouth –

"No! No! NO! STOP!"

Someone grabbed her from behind. Wendy thrashed as the mystery savior carried her from the pirates –

"Wen! It's me!"

Wendy turned. Her heart absolutely rejoiced.

"Jim? Jim! JIM! Oh my – "

Overcome with relief, Wendy hugged Jim with all her might. "You're alright! You're alright! Jack Frost said Peter was going to hurt you but he didn't and you are ALRIGHT! Oh my goodness! Oh my goodness! Oh my goodness! Jim I'm so happy you're – Wait a minute? Oh my GOODNESS!? Jim!"

Wendy suddenly remembered. "Jim the pirates – Jim we have to escape – "

"Okay! Reunion over!" Sinbad marched through the crew. Scimitar raised, he wrenched Wendy about. "Who the heck is – "

Sinbad gawked. "Scrimpy?"

Wendy gawked. "You? What are you –?"

Wrathfully, she snarled. " _You_! I _remember_ you! Jim don't trust him – he was at our house – he was prowling about Pirate's Point! He was – STAY BACK!"

Wendy threw an arm as Sinbad advanced. Standing defensively before Jim, she warned Sinbad not to move. "Stop! Stay away, don't come any nearer! I said _stop_ or I _swear_ I will – "

"You'll what?" Sinbad flicked Wendy with the flat of his blade. "This is my ship and _Jim_ is the first mate."

Wendy straightened. Outraged she turned to Jim. "You joined pirates? _Again_?"

Jim hastily tried to explain. It was useless – Wendy was in a bickering mood. "Okay wait, wait, wait! Hold everything! Wen calm down – "

"Calm _down_?"

"You are seriously not calm!"

"We're in the middle of a transnational war, Peter is possessed, Ariel is heavens knows where, King Arthur is missing, and ONCE AGAIN you've JOINED PIRATES! You expect me to CALM DOWN?"

"Okay I know my track record is bad, but Wen this time it's different! We're going after Mom, Pitch has her at Avalon and – "

"Who is he?" Wendy demanded, pointing furiously at Sinbad. "He was after Sarah, I saw him at the house, I—"

"The name is Sinbad, Scrimpy." Sinbad stepped directly into Wendy. "Captain Sinbad."

Wendy froze. " _You're_ _Sinbad_?"

Sinbad grinned. He was quite proud. "So you've heard of me?"

" _Ohhh."_ Wendy rolled a sleeve. "I've heard _plenty_!"

And before Jim could stop her, Wendy socked Sinbad with her left hook.

 **... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ...**

 **sultal's note: Science geek alert - dolphins don't really shut their whole brain off when they sleep (neither do Ferngullians). There is a WHOLE scientific explanation that I wrote but ended up scrapping because it was long and didn't progress the story (it was just so damn cool).**

 **HOWEVER, basically dolphins shut down one hemisphere of their brain, allowing the other half of their brain to regulate nonvolitional functions (aka breathing) and to sense their surroundings. So yeah...ferngullians do the same. BRAINS ARE TOOOOO COOOOOL.**


	122. Chapter 122: Time Out Chair

**Chapter 122: Time Out Chair**

Sinbad's nose exploded under Wendy's fist.

The crew responded as typical men.

"OHHHHHHH!" They whooped, arms raising like sports fans. "OHHHHHH DAAAAMN!"

" _Wendy_?" Jim gasped. He was stunned. The skirmish took several moments to process, but it basically boiled down to: (1) Sinbad was bleeding. (2) Wendy was _significantly_ stronger than she looked.

Dumfounded, Jim reevaluated his sweet little sister. " _Nice_ _shot_! Who the hell taught you to punch? Oh shit! Wen get back – "

The crew (following their _shameful_ initial reaction) rallied to Sinbad's defense. Set on avenging Wendy's crime (in addition to their own), they prepared to pull her insides out.

Jim forced Wendy behind him. The crew attacked. Sinbad ended the brawl with an incredulous scream.

"AhhhhhHHHHHHRRRAAAGGGGggggghhh! You little – " Blood bubbled from Sinbad's nose. Cupping handfuls of stringy red gunk, he confronted Wendy. "What the hell?!"

"Well I can see _that's_ where Jim gets his _language_ from!" Wendy struggled against Jim, left hand held protectively against her stomach. Her hand was already bruising; the skin over her knuckles had split. "But that's _all_ he inherited from you, because you are the most _horrible_ , _disgusting_ , _selfish_ , _atrocious_ , _detestable_ , _unspeakable_ –"

"Someone!" Sinbad barked, mopping his bloody nose. "Stifle the thesaurus!"

"— _insufferable_ , _repulsive_ , _evil, wicked_ , dispic _mphmml_!" Wendy continued to insult through her gag, even as the pirates knotted her wrists and dragged her from Jim. Her cries became so vehement, Tulio double-layered the gag.

It didn't help. Wendy had reached her boiling point.

As Wendy yelled through her gag, Miguel stuck his knife under her chin.

"Should I cut out her tongue?" he sweetly offered Sinbad.

"No!" Jim yelled, Morph echoing. "No don't hurt her! She's my sister, she's my best friend we—"

"Oh WE'VE met!" Sinbad marched to Wendy. He grabbed her chin. Venomously, he started to speak. Then he paused, tilted Wendy's jaw, and turned to Jim. "Jesus does she ever stop talking?"

Jim pounced before Sinbad could permanently make her.

"Wen calm down, just – " Jim pushed through Sinbad. Wendy was straining against the gag, desperately trying to free her hands. Fearful that she would choke, Jim interceded.

"Wen it's okay! Just listen for a second before you get killed! Sinbad is still a son of a bitch – "

"Hey I can HEAR you!"

"—but we've got to work with him to find Mom! Peter brought Mom someplace called Avalon! Pitch wants me and he's using Mom as bait!"

Jim cupped Wendy's cheeks, forcing her to listen. "Wen, we can't fight Pitch without you, so just calm down and trust me! I promise, these guys won't hurt you – "

"WHOA there partner!" Sinbad exclaimed. His scimitar glinted in the corner of Jim's eye. "Let's not make promises we can't keep, shall we? I've got a cold, wet, worm-ridden cell with Scrimpy's name all over it. She's going down to the brig with all the other lousy Fantas– "

"No she's not." Jim squared to Sinbad. "Untie her."

"What?"

"You heard me son of a bitch. I'm the first mate, and I said _untie her_."

Sinbad almost laughed (but blood spurted from his nostrils, so he stopped). Nose dripping, he _firmly_ declined.

"Okay um first of all, _NO_. Second of all, _son of a what_ young man? Jim, I'm _really_ getting sick of the swearing. Third of all, _I_ am the captain and _I say_ Scrimpy gets a chain right up her –"

"Hey!" Jim bellowed. "Either you untie her, or you tie me up too!"

They both ended in the brig.

"Lovely strategy." Wendy kicked at her chains, trying to break free. She and Jim had been tied back-to-back, hands strictly bound and bodies immersed in slimy seawater. Sinbad was right – the brig was cold, wet, and worm-ridden.

Needless to say, Jim was pissed and Wendy was irked.

"Lovely strategy." Wendy repeated, lowering her voice to mimic Jim. " _Tie me up too._ Brilliant. Tell me Jim what do you have planned for us next? Walking the plank?"

Jim shoved his elbows. "Maybe if you don't cut with the attitude."

"Hysterical!" Wendy snarled as Jim jabbed her ribs. "Very funny Mr. Hawkins, full marks for hilarity! The pirate's life has certainly done _wonders_ for your wit!"

"Hey I can ask them to gag you again!"

"Well, since we're receiving identical punishments _by alllllll means_! Call the guard – no wait! Better yet call the _CAPTAIN_! You've clearly made up!"

"Have not!"

"Very convincing!"

"Take that back!"

"Oh _please_ just try and _make_ me - oh!"

Wendy squeaked as Jim flung them sideways, splashing into the water. Wendy retaliated. Although her comeback was weaker, they slipped over the floorboards like a water slide. They spluttered, floundered, argued, snapped –

Then, they laughed.

"Whoa!" Jim flicked his dripping bangs. "Was that a brother – sister fight or what?"

Wendy smiled. "Jim I'm so happy you're alive!"

"You too. Wen where the Hell have you been?"

"Language."

"Sorry."

"Jim I've been everywhere! It all started when the mermaids attacked Ariel's Grotto. Merida, Robin, and I were captured. It was horrid. But then something _incredible_ happened. I met a young Viking named Hiccup…"

Wendy told her tale, and she unfolded it well. By the time Wendy had chronicled her adventures with the Vikings, Ferngullians, Hiccup, Astrid, Toothless, and Pips, Jim was enraptured.

"Wow." Jim located Pips, hanging unconsciously by his bruised wings. "Your story is a shit load better than mine. That guy really Peter's uncle?"

"Yes."

"Damn."

"Language."

"Sorry."

"It has been a journey." Wendy agreed, following Jim's gaze. She sighed - Pips looked ragged. "Certainly an uphill climb. But I think – I'm afraid – the hardest part is still left."

"Well duh. We still have to find Arthur."

"Unless Hiccup and Astrid find him first."

"Yeah – still not convinced that was the best idea Wen. You said Hiccup had a grudge."

"Hiccup won't hurt Arthur." Wendy reassured. She paused, surprised by a sudden revelation. "As a matter of fact, I think Hiccup and Arthur would actually make good friends. They are quite similar. Both are big hearted, a touch off-beat, distinguished by their slightness in size – "

"And weird names." Jim said. "Hiccup and Wart."

"But they also share an identical goal." Wendy finished. "Peace. Equality. _All for one_ … _one for all_ … _united we stand_ … _divided we fall_."

Wendy leaned against Jim, mystified by her final words. The rhyming sequence was eerily familiar, but she could not remember hearing them before. Strange. _Perhaps she'd heard them in a dream. Or someone else's dream_. _Nightmare, rather._

Jim was focused on the first half of her comparison. "Something doesn't seem right. If Hiccup and Arthur both want peace, why are we at war?"

Wendy was stumped.

So Sinbad answered. "Pitch."

Wendy stiffened. Jim felt her fingers twitch, searching for shadows. " _You_. What do you know about Pitch? And how dare you hang Pips by his wings?! Can't you see he's suffering– "

"Enough chatter. Okay _kids_ …" Sinbad leaned against the cell, his nose (still bloody) pressed between the bars. "You two finished with time out?"

Wendy resumed her dialogue, but Sinbad interrupted.

"I said enough with the chatter! Don't you sass your daddy, Scrimpy."

Wendy was revolted.

"My _name_ is Wendy. And I am not your _daughter_. Furthermore, I don't think you're qualified to be anyone's father, especially after your disappearing act ten years ago –"

"You're the mouthy on in the family, arencha? And all this time I thought it was Jim." Sinbad creaked open the cell door. Sloshing through the sludge, he crouched before Wendy.

"Let me explain how this goes. Sarah - my beautiful abducted wife – adopted you. Savvy? Ergo, you are my adopted daughter, and I am your adopted father. In your language, I believe the translation is _'fah-tha.'_ So feel free to use it at you leisure. All clear, sweetie?"

Wendy writhed inside her skin. " _Sir_ , I can _assure_ you. You are _not_ my –"

"Oh, I disagree. It's in the paperwork. You, by legal decree, are my daughter." Sinbad grinned. "And you're in luck. I've always wanted a little girl. No offense Jim."

"No _offense_?" Jim scoffed. "Are you mental?"

"Watch your mouth. You're almost bad as Scrimpy."

"My _name_ is _Wendy_!"

"And my name is Dad. Again, in your language: ' _fah-tah_.'"

"You are reprehensible!" Wendy twisted against her chains. "How dare you parade around like a father after disappearing for ten years! How dare you –"

"Get used to the idea, Scrimpy." Sinbad ruffled her hair. "Because you –"

"No!" Wendy jerked. Sinbad removed his hand, startled by her anger. "No, no! Let me tell _you_ something, _Captain_ , you are an evil man! Do you hear me? _Evil_! You hurt Jim and Sarah every single day that you never came back! It doesn't matter the reason – it doesn't matter at all! You were part of them! And you left!"

Wendy trembled. She was furious, almost beyond words. Unsure whether she was reprimanding Sinbad, her own father, or Peter, she started to cry. "Do you have _any_ idea how much you _hurt_ them? How much they needed you? How much you… you…"

Sinbad was quiet. He stared at Wendy as she cried.

Jim pressed a cheek to her hair. "It's okay Wen." He rubbed her fingers. "It's okay…" After a soothing moment, Jim turned to Sinbad. "You better go."

Sinbad did not. Removing his bandana, he wiped Wendy's tears.

"You're right." he said gently. "There's more to the story than that…but you're right. Here…"

Sinbad pinched his bandana around Wendy's nose. When she did nothing, he gave a friendly shake. "Come on kido. Blow."

Wendy did, halfheartedly. As Sinbad withdrew, she apologized for dirtying his bandana.

"…even though you deserved it." she mumbled, nose kneading into her shoulder.

Both Jim and Sinbad smiled.

"Best friends, huh?" Sinbad asked.

Jim nodded. "She's a keeper."

"That I can see. Okay. So we'll warm up to the dad thing. Because when this charade is over, you may be seeing a lot more of me. Both of you. But first, we gotta get Sarah back. So if you agree not to punch me...I'll untie you." Sinbad waited. "Savvy?"

Wendy sniffed, regaining her composure. "You'll untie Pips too?"

"The Ferngullian? Sure whatever. Deal?"

"Fine."

"Okay, let's go. And by the way…" Sinbad winked at Wendy, "You've got a decent left hook. We'll work on your follow through. Kay Scrimpy?"

Wendy repeated herself: not for the first, and _certainly_ not for the last.

"My _name_ is Wendy."

 **... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ...** **... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ...**

 **sultal's note: Cvee (Guest) - haha with regard to Jim x Ariel - MISSION ACCOMPLISHED! I fell in love with this ship watching YouTube videos during a calculus homework break. It's been my mission to give them more FF love. Glad you love them as well.**

 **OKAY - with regard to the story you want, I am always up to discuss a commission. I have a story I still have to start writing for another reader based on artwork of Rapunzel Magic Frost HOWEVER I have no self control when it comes to writing - so email me at**

 **sultalwf at gmail dot com (I can't write the address, fanficiton won't let me) and we can discuss it!**

 **You can also join wattpad or Deviant Art to contact me that way!**


	123. C123: Ariel's Dumb(Slash Brilliant)Idea

**Chapter 123: Ariel's Dumb (Slash Brilliant) Idea**

"Okay." Flynn tossed his frying pan. "We're lost!"

Ariel couldn't agree more. Their quest for Avalon had hit a dead end. They were stranded in a forest that Mother Nature had forgotten. Elsa's snowstorm was bitter cold. And the only protection they had from the blizzard were giant-sized spider-webs (made by giant-sized spiders).

They were no closer to King Arthur than a frantic hope.

Ariel was frustrated. But since she was voiceless, she let Robin, Merida, and Bunny complain.

"We should'a left _quietly_." Bunny brushed spider webs from his ears. "It's bad enough being lost without Ruber's bloody army following us!"

Merida joined Bunny. Unperturbed that _she_ had announced their destination to the villains, Merida brushed spider webs from her hair

"Don't forget about Captain Hook. He's following us too, rotten bloater. Hook's pretty fast on land fer a pirate."

"Ah but, he's cheating." Robin said. He brushed spider webs from his tail. "I saw the Jolly Roger flying over the Great Wall. Apparently Captain Hook got his hands – pun intended – on pixie dust."

"Pixie dust. How?"

"Hook must have access to the Underworld. That's where the pixie dust is forged. Captain Hook probably got it from there."

"Aye. But how?"

"Your shadow worker drilled holes under beds, that's how." Bunny pointed down. "Pitch lives under beds, so he could slip into the Underword. Betcha Pitch got the pixie dust for Hook. Brainless little shadow worker…"

Ariel turned, trident raised. Luckily for Bunny, Tooth interjected.

"Bunny stop it, you know the rules! If you bad mouth the Fantasians, Ariel is going to zap you!"

"Which might make it more difficult for you to lay Easter eggs." Robin teased. He high-fived Merida as Bunny defended Easter, springtime, and the nobility of hardboiled eggs. The argument escalated. Bunny slurred Robin. Robin insulted Bunny. Merida kept score.

"Who _invited_ them on this shindig?" Flynn muttered, bending to retrieve his frying pan. "Freaking Avalon. Bet it doesn't even exist. Rapunzel's probably cried a river by now. Baby doll…"

Ariel watched sympathetically as Flynn rapped his frying pan. Snow clumped off. Unnecessarily he wacked it again, more out of worry for Rapunzel than frustration with the quest.

"Someone needs to come up with a brilliant idea." Flynn stood between Ariel and Tooth. "And I vote it's not me. After all – I can't be the brains _and_ the beauty! Too much pressure. Ariel, babe – you hear what I'm saying?"

Ariel smiled softly at Flynn's joke. Fingering her trident she sighed, unable to offer a plausible plan. Together they stared into the swirling snow.

"So what's the deal with you and Jimbo?" Flynn abruptly asked. "You having a baby or what?"

Ariel's trident sparkled turquoise as Tooth turned. "Baby? Ariel? Are you – "

"She's been acting funny since she got to Fantasia!" Flynn twirled his hands. "All girly and stuff! And every time Ariel looks at my baby doll Rapunzel, she _glows_! Glows like a blushing jelly fish!"

Tooth blinked. Her fairies cocked heads. "Blushing jelly fish? Is that a thing?"

"Nuance." Flynn said, dismissing Tooth and squaring to Ariel. "Here's the big picture. We've all sworn to protect King Arthur, right? We're all prepared to die for King Arthur if necessary. Merida has. Robin has. Tooth and Bunny have. Heck, even I have. But Ariel…"

Flynn nodded to Ariel's stomach. "Even if you don't know… even if you're not sure… Jim _Junior_ hasn't vowed to die for his king. And I don't think he should. Therefore, death on your part would be…well… basically bad parenting and technically murder."

Flynn waited as Ariel drew in her trident. The shaft buzzed protectively across her belly button as he spoke. "Ariel, I know you're a guardian. I know you want to find Arthur. But you _can't._ You need to take North's snowglobe and _leave_. Go back to the Warren. Find Admiral Triton and –"

"Oi! Heads up!" Merida blurred by, orange hair bouncing. An instant later, the forest splintered as _The Jolly Roger_ sailed through the canopy. "It's Captain Hook! And Ruber! And Peter Pan! Run!"

They ran. It was a wild, disorienting chase. _The Jolly Roger_ followed them through the snow as Ruber's men blundered behind. The ground shook as the armies converged. Ariel's troupe scampered through every invisible alcove, but the villains _somehow_ intercepted every escape.

"Ariel – " Robin panted as Tooth whooshed overhead. "Ariel— it's – your trident! It shines – "

The trident glimmered clairvoyantly as Robin lost his breath. Ariel inwardly cursed : Robin was right, her trident was glowing like the sun. The light was a dead giveaway.

Slightly panicked, Ariel sprinted. Intermittently she would skid and fall as Peter whisked by, dagger glinting. Ariel considered blasting him, but withheld for Wendy's sake. Rather than fight, she ran harder.

The forest colors melted together when suddenly a dark, rocky burrow popped into Ariel's peripheral vision. Veering sharply, Ariel slammed into the hole. Merida, Robin, Bunny, and Tooth hurled after her. They tumbled inside, knotted into a ball, and crashed into –

"WHAT IN THE NAME OF THOR?!"

Vikings. Six Vikings. Four dragons. And one Ferngullian.

Oh boy. Rather, oh _Thor_.

"Fantasians!" Snoutlout swung his hammer. "LOTS of Fantasians! Tuff duck so I can –"

 _Clank!_ Snoutlout crushed Tuffnutt's skull.

"I am hurt!" Tuffnutt probed his dented helmet. "I am very much hurt! But I am OKAY!"

"Then hold still!" Ruffnutt rammed Tuffnutt into Merida. She whooped as Merida crumpled. "Ha! _Lokied_! Whoa!"

Robin sprayed Ruffnutt with arrows. Fishlegs swore his love for Ruffnutt and body-slammed Robin against the rocks. Merida found a fleshy part of Fishlegs (it wasn't hard) and bit. Snoutlout hammered Bunny. Bunny boomeranged Snoutlout. Tooth strangled everyone with dental floss. Crysta wound the floss around Tooth's wings. Flynn punched Astrid. Astrid punched everybody.

Ariel ignited her trident as Hiccup yelled. "Toothless! Plasma blast!"

Plasma and electricity sizzled. The combustion cast violet and golden sparks against the cavern walls, _conclusively_ ending their cover. In a matter of moments, the villains would be blocking their exit.

Still, the Vikings and Fantasians fought.

"Well, well, well! If it isn't HICCUP!" Merida twirled _Inferno_ like a baton. "Fate brings us together once again! Ladies and gentlemen, lambs and sods! Allow me te introduce Hiccup The Viking, who's only line in this whole story is ' _I WANT PEACE_!'"

"And who ironically—" Robin finished. "Also wants King Arthur DEAD! Peace? Death? Dear Hiccup you are a poor, confused, one-legged little Viking!"

Hiccup marched to the Fantasians. Toothless would have followed, but dragons (unbeknownst to Ariel) fear eels. It was an evolutionary fear that even Hiccup did not understand. Needless to say, since Ariel's trident fired _eel_ electricity, the dragons were spooked.

Hiccup was alone.

"I helped you escape!" Hiccup swiped for _Inferno_. "That's _my_ sword! Give it back!"

Merida lunged behind Robin. She held _Inferno_ out of reach. "Then give Wendy back!"

"I don't have her anymore!"

"All Hail King Arthur!" Robin loaded his bow. "They've killed Wendy!"

" _Killed_? Oh for the love of – " Hiccup brandished his helmet. "I asked Wendy to join us! I asked her to become a Viking! She _declined_ then forced me on a wild goose hunt for King Arthur! We've been flying but we can't find Avalon in this snow storm! Someone – Toothless! Back me up!"

Toothless eyed Ariel's trident. Distastefully, he nodded.

Hiccup smacked his thigh. "See?"

"Oh well if the _dragon_ says it's true." Flynn raised his pan. "Then I'm _totally_ convinced. Ariel?"

Ariel agreed with Flynn. She slashed her trident, making known her doubt.

"Wendy would go after King Arthur, _herself_." argued Merida, reading Ariel's mind. "Wendy is a guardian. She wouldn't leave Arthur to the mercy of you dirty Vikings!"

"Then you _clearly_ don't know Wendy." Astrid countered. "At least not like _we_ do. Big news _Fantasians_ , Wendy is one of _us_ now. She trusts Hiccup to find King Arthur while she rescues someone named Jim – "

Ariel clapped. Twice. Frantically, she beseeched Astrid. _Where is Jim?_

Astrid lifted her axe wearily. "What?"

 _Jim!_ Ariel hit her trident. For some reason the action almost drew tears. _Why does Wendy need to rescue Jim_? _What is wrong? Someone tell me!_ _WHERE IS JIM?!_

The dragons stirred as electricity hissed from Ariel's trident. The Otherlanders and Fantasians fidgeted as Ariel, unable to be heard and desperate for an answer, screamed. Tears rolled down her cheeks as she stood in the center of two worlds, begging them to cooperate.

And they might have – had the villains not invaded.

"We know you're in there Miss Triton!" Captain Hook cooed inside the cave. Ruber echoed behind him. "Come out, come out wherever you are! Or shall we send Mr. Pan to… _fetch_ you?"

Ariel stiffened. She rubbed her stomach, thinking desperately of an escape.

Then she had an idea. A dumb but _brilliant_ idea.

Captain Hook knew she was there. But...he didn't know about the Vikings. And the Vikings claimed to be on the same team as the Fantasians.

It was dumb. But it was worth a shot.

Ariel unpocketed her notepad. She uncapped her purple marker. The notepad was thin. Her marker, after all this time, was bone dry. Calmly, Ariel scratched a message. Then, handing her notepad, pen, _and trident_ to Hiccup, she surrendered to Captain Hook.

The message read:

 **Captain Hook and Ruber r going 2 Avalon.**

 **They will take me there.**

 **If Arthur is in Avalon I will find him.**

 **...**

 **Vikings – trail us.**

 **Fantasians – go back 2 the Warren.**

 **Tell North 2 use his snowglobe – bring our army to Avalon.**

 **...**

 **Everyone – stop being a bunch of guppies.**

They tried to follow. They tried to rescue her. But Ariel was already captured and on her perilous journey to Avalon.

To find Arthur, the King.


	124. Chapter 124: Fairytale

**Chapter 124: Fairytale**

"Is that...Avalon?"

Kayley nudged Schmendrick. She waited uncertainly has he surveyed the frosty wilderness.

"I think so." Schmendrick scratch his hat. Mini icicles twinkled off the brim. "At least, we followed the same directions – Avalon is due north, almost touching the North Pole across the sea. I remember The King saying before we left... _'To Avalon! Follow the Wishing Star!_ '"

All eyes flicked upwards. Even Garrett envisioned the Wishing Star behind the snowy clouds.

"But remember..." Schmendrick murmured. "Twas not I that found Avalon. The King and Master Emrys showed me the way. So I _think_ this forest is Avalon. I suppose..."

Again Schmendrick scanned the white vista. Everything was covered in snow. He shrugged.

"I suppose we'll know once we find Odette. _If_ we find Odette. I wonder if she is still a swan...hm. That _could_ complicate things. Perhaps the moonlight will reveal her true form, as it did before?"

"Remind us." Garrett shifted aside Kayley. "Who is Odette?"

"The Lady of the Lake." Schmendrick replied. "Odette is a magical creature. She guarded Caliburn for 100 years before it disappeared. Odette also prophesized the return of The Once and Future King."

Schmendrick glanced wistfully at Arthur. The boy was shivering in Shrek's arms. His hair was nearly white. He was frozen as the icicles on Schmendrick's hat.

Schmendrick rubbed his nose. He pitied Arthur – Elsa's curse had wasted the boy's strength. If Arthur did not win Elsa's true love soon...

"Regardless," Schmendrick forced himself to focus on Avalon. "Our quest is to find The Lady of the Lake. Now, I _accidentally_ magicked Odette into a swan, so this may get tricky-sticky very quickly."

Devon and Cornwall grimaced. "Uck. Swan soup."

"Well that's...not what I meant."

"That's what we thought."

"Aww, you two shared thought." Kayley smiled over her shoulder. "Progress."

Aiden chuckled. Devon and Cornwall tried to disintegrate him, but they blew soot instead.

"Shh!" Blue magic fluttered from Schmendrick as he silenced the dragons. Uncharacteristically solemn, he waved at the enchanted woodland. "Be warned, all of you! This is not a laughing matter! If this forest is _indeed_ Avalon, then we are about to enter a magical, _magical_ realm. We are about to enter... a fairytale."

"Fairytale?" Kayley scanned the soundless wood. Perhaps it was her imagination, but something seemed to glimmer beneath the snow, within the forest's heart. Entranced, she followed Schmendrick across the way. "What do you mean fairytale?"

"Ah, fairytale." Schmendrick crunched through snowdrifts. Ducking under the silver boughs and golden foils, he led them into the enchanted wood. "What is a fairytale without a _once upon a time_? And what is a once upon a time...without a campfire story?"

The campfire was tended after a fruitless search for Odette.

Evening melted into night. Arthur was bundled by the fire. Kayley snuggled into Garrett. Devon sat with Cornwall. Aiden perched above Shrek. And as the little band settled for Schmendrick's fairytale, the snowfall stopped. Wind swept aside the clouds. The moon glowed like a pearl.

Schmendrick cleared his throat.

"This is a fairytale of the Once and Future King. It is a fairytale that is very old, _and_ very new – since the Future King has yet to return. But I _can_ tell you of the Once King. The King of Caliburn. The King of Camelot."

"Camelot?" Kayley echoed.

"Yes!" Schmendrick twirled. "Camelot! Perhaps some of you have heard of it? The Camelot of old?"

The men nodded. Kayley listened raptly as they spoke.

"Camelot." Garrett said. "The King's stronghold."

"Big castle." grunted Shrek. "Lots of flags."

"Camelot!" gushed Devon. "The restaurants! The theater!"

"The waitresses, the actresses!" drooled Cornwall.

"Home of the knights." Garrett fingered his staff. "Knights of the Round Table."

" _Knights_?" Kayley bounced. "My father said if The King regained his throne then _I_ could become a knight!"

"Sir Lionel told me the same." Garrett squeezed Kayley's shoulder. "I use to live in Camelot. At least, the ruins of Camelot. The King's castle was often pillaged for treasure. As a boy, I snuck inside the castle with thieves – Rumpelstiltskin amongst them. Then one day, I fell. And... I got hurt."

Garrett touched the back of his head. "At first, all I could see were shapes and shadows. Finally, my world went black."

Aiden whimpered.

But Garrett brightened. "After I lost my sight, I _met_ The King. He found me, neglected in the bottom of his castle. I was ill, and my memory of The King is very weak. But I _do_ remember Sir Lionel. Kayley, _your_ father was the only one that believed in me. He told me of The King's knights – and the measure of a _true_ man. A man of Camelot."

"Yes!" Schmendrick applauded. "Camelot was glorious! A capital of enlightenment! And a centerpiece of power! The King ruled The Otherland with his magical sword! The magical sword _Caliburn_! It was a prosperous time! A golden age..."

"But..." Schmendrick dropped his arms. "Something happened. Something...unlucky."

"What?" Kayley, Devon, and Cornwall asked.

Schmendrick removed his hat. "The King fell in love. He fell in love with an immortal lady. A lady too beautiful to go unnoticed by evil. A lady that The King sacrificed _everything_ to protect...so that his enemies could not... enjoy her."

Kayley covered her mouth. She pressed into Garrett. And Garrett, after a moment, returned her embrace.

Schmendrick sighed. "This place, _Avalon_ , is connected to The King. Avalon protected The King's lady. Avalon as where The King died. And Avalon, _perhaps_ , is where The King will rise again."

"Ha!" Shrek belched. "What a load of nougat! Glory of Camelot? Capital of enlightenment? Once and Future King? Ha!"

Shrek spit through the cracks in his teeth. His saliva almost extinguished the fire. "Yer all a bunch pathetic, stinking donkeys! Camelot doesn't exist and it never will! The only knights are the ones in shining armor! The rest of us are monsters! There will _never_ be peace in The Otherland – king or no king!"

"That is not true." Schmendrick frowned. "The King _believed_ in equality. He gave everyone a fair chance. The King – "

"The King was like everybody else!" Shrek plucked his green skin. "Did you ever see an ogre knight? No? Ever wonder why not? Look at me! I'm bigger, stronger, and faster than all the king's horses and all the king's men! But would _The King_ ever knight an ogre? No!"

"Now wait a minute!" Kayley tried to defend The King. "Did an ogre ever ask to be a knight? Or were they just too cranky to try?"

"Look little missy!" Shrek growled. "Ogres are not the ones with the problem, okay? It's the world that has the problem with ogres! People take one look at me and my family and go ' _Aargh! Help! Run! A fat stupid ugly ogre!_ '"

"Garrett you know, aye?" Shrek rapped Garrett's staff. "You get the same thing! People look at you and go ' _Aargh! A dumb, blind, beggar!_ ' How could he ever be a knight? How could he...ever be anything?"

Shrek shook his head. "People judge us before they even know us. That's why we're better off alone. That's why The Once and Future King... is just a fairytale."

Snow began to fall. Snowflakes cried silently from crystal clouds.

Suddenly, something flickered in the wood. Shrek followed the movement, but stopped as the flicker passed behind Arthur.

Shrek scowled. The mysterious flicker disappeared. Returning to Arthur, he barked. "What are ye looking at, kid? Still wish you were The King now?"

Arthur trembled. He smeared snowflakes from his nose. Shrek noticed - Arthur's fingers were frozen. Solid ice.

"Artie?" Shrek leaned. "Artie are you alright?"

Arthur stared at his hands. "I..." he whispered, looking up. "...why can't I breathe?"

Elsa's curse struck. The magic seized Arthur. His heart iced. His body distorted. Arthur began freezing to death.

The Otherlanders tried to help. Schmendrick conjured a magical sunray. Shrek fueled the campfire. Devon and Cornwall set aside their differences and spluttered little flames. Garrett swaddled Arthur in Schmendrick's cape. Aiden snuggled his icy little nose. Kayley urged Arthur to fight, to wake from his sleep, to never give in, to wait for them to find Elsa, to believe that she could break her curse with true love...the warmest emotion...

But they were too late. Arthur was dying.

There was nothing to be done...nothing but wish Arthur gentle dreams as he died.

 **... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ...**

Arthur did dream.

He dreamt that everyone was asleep. Everyone but the Man in the Moon. The moonlight was formidable. Brightness overpowered the dark. Silver moonbeams wove through the trees. Arthur saw tiny fairies twinkling behind snowflakes before they darted away.

Then he saw the unicorn. No – it wasn't a unicorn –

Arthur blinked. It was a lady. A lady that floated instead of walked. A lady that sparkled instead of smiled. A lady too beautiful to be true. A lady...no... a fairytale.

The lady knelt. Arthur could only stare. She glowed like a star, with pure white hair and bangs thick as his own, but curled over violet eyes. Her beauty was disarming, almost mystical. And when she touched him...

Arthur shuddered, a natural reaction as the lady stroked his hair. It felt wonderful. He closed his eyes. _Immediately_ he ached for her beauty (imagination was not enough) and opened them. He searched frantically, certain she'd gone.

But she hadn't. As a matter of fact, she had moved closer.

The lady smiled. Arthur smiled, silently (and sheepishly) apologizing for his leering. His contriteness made her laugh. And as she laughed, the lady lowered –

-and gave King Arthur his first kiss.

Arthur bubbled like chocolate fondue. _Sweetness_ , as if the lady were breathing sugar inside him, warmed Arthur's heart.

Yes. _Warmed._

Elsa's icy curse did not disappear – but it melted. It melted just enough for Arthur to wake from his dream...

 _Or,_ Arthur wondered, w _as it a dream? Or was she...a fairytale?_

 **... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ...**

 **sultal's note: song credits "Sleepsong" by Secret Garden. I HIGHLY recommend this one, it's a killer gorgeous song.**


	125. Chapter 125: The Once and Future King

**Chapter 125: The Once and Future King**

Schmendrick awoke. But he didn't stir. He didn't even open his eyes. It was unlikely that Artie had survived the night - the thought of scraping snowflakes from his corpse was unbearable. _Another death?_ Schmendrick cringed. _Oh. The thought of getting up was actually painful._

Poor Artie. Poor boy.

Schmendrick didn't understand why, but he _liked_ Artie. The boy was brainwashed (claiming to be The King for mercy sake!), but his peculiarities were nonetheless admirable. Although Artie sought Lady Elsa to break his curse, his ultimate goal was _not_ true love. Artie's ultimate goal was saving Fantasia. That was commendable – kingly even.

But the wintry curse was too strong, even for Artie's noble heart. By now, on this sunshiny morning, the Fantasian boy was probably dead.

"Poor Artie." Schmendrick stiffly uncurled. Shaking snow from his hat, he gazed sadly at Arthur. But just as he promised himself not to cry, Schmendrick gasped.

"Oh!"

Schmendrick dropped his hat. Blue magic puffed under the brim as Kayley, Garrett, and Shrek woke to Schmendrick's cry. Together they followed Schmendrick's trembling finger to Arthur.

Arthur was alive, stirring from a peaceful sleep. His hair was less white; his complexion less blue; a faint rosiness colored his cheeks.

And a _gorgeous_ unicorn had rested her head upon his chest.

They stared. They gawked in the morning light.

Finally Schmendrick murmured.

"Unicorn...my spell. Lady Odette was transfigured into a swan...and...her sister...a unicorn."

Schmendrick pinched his nose. He clenched and unclenched his hands, trying to remember the disastrous incantation that had transfigured ladies Amalthea and Odette.

Unable to recall the spell, Schmendrick gingerly approached. He paused as the unicorn lifted, her gaze sweeping gracefully from Arthur to him.

Schmendrick inhaled. He held his breath. He turned burgundy and suddenly remembered to breathe. His exhale came out in one big poof.

"Oh...um!" Schmendrick saw himself quivering in the unicorn's violet eyes. He stammered then stopped. _Violet_. The unicorn's eyes were violet. Wide, reflective, and violet, exactly like...Lady Amalthea's eyes.

Schmendrick hardly whispered.

"My...my lady? Amalthea?"

The unicorn blinked. Then she smoothed Arthur's cheek with an affectionate rub.

"OH!"

Magic spiraled out of Schmendrick's nose to the tips of his ten toes. His outburst woke Arthur, which thrilled the magician even more. His excitement hit the stars and sailed through the cosmos. Schmendrick danced, jumped, shouted, and cried.

"Unicorn! Amalthea! Artie! Avalon! Here! Once! Future! Once and Future – Twinkle twinkle little thing, hail the Once and Future - OH WHOA! OH WHOA THE POWERS OF WHOA!"

Schmendrick sunk to his knees. He clasped his mouth.

They could scarcely hear his homage to Arthur through the tears.

"Oh...oh Your Majesty."


	126. Chapter 126: Caliburn vs Excalibur

**Chapter 126: Caliburn vs Excalibur**

The story was told. The story was retold. The story was explained so many times, Schmendrick could have written a book. He was flooded with questions and accused of insanity. But in the end Arthur's identity was revealed, irrespective of the confusion. Schmendrick swore on the lost soul of Master Emrys that King Arthur of Fantasia _was_ The King of the Otherland.

"Artie." Schmendrick reiterated, beaming ear to ear. "Is the Once and Future King."

Everyone was flummoxed, but none so much as Arthur.

"So…let me understand this." Arthur rubbed his forehead. Elsa's curse had eased since his encounter with Amalthea, but it had not disappeared. Concentrating was still hard. "You believe that I am King Arthur now?"

"Yes, Your Majesty." Schmendrick explained. "And you are _also_ The King of the Otherland, resurrected as The Once of Future King. Odette prophesized that you would return. And you have! Huzzah!"

"And Odette…" Arthur remembered. "…Odette is The Lady of the Lake? A prophet?"

"Quite so, Your Majesty!"

"You turned Odette into a swan?"

"Hopefully a magical, talking swan, Your Majesty."

"Uh huh. And Odette made a prophesy about me?"

"Amongst other things, Your Majesty."

"What things?"

"Hard to recall exactly, Your Majesty. We will lean more once we find Odette, Your Majesty. We might also recover Caliburn, Your Majesty. You see, Odette is the sword's guardian, Your Majesty."

Arthur waved dismissively. "You don't have to keep calling me Your Majesty. It's Arthur."

"Certainly, Your Majesty."

"No, no, Schmendrick, you _really_ don't have to keep calling me Your –"

" _I'll_ call ye Artie." Shrek piped. "Wouldn't want te spoil old times."

Arthur glared. "Thanks." he muttered as Shrek picked his rump. "Congenial of you."

"No problem." Shrek burped. "Erm ehm –Artie. _King_ Artie. Oh aye, _king_ , that has a nice ring."

Shrek belched to demonstrate his "nice ring." Devon grimaced, and Schmendrick scolded him for indecent behavior.

Arthur adjusted his robes, trying to regain the warmth left by Amalthea's kiss. Suddenly reminded of the mysterious lady, he made eye contact with the unicorn. The unicorn was already looking at him.

"Um." Arthur flushed. He forced himself to return to Schmendrick. "What is Caliburn?"

"Pardon, Your Majesty?"

"You said we might recover Caliburn. What is that?"

"Oh Caliburn!" Kayley trumpeted. "Caliburn is your magical sword!"

Arthur frowned. "Excalibur?"

"No, Caliburn!"

"You…mean _my_ sword? The sword I pulled from the stone? Excalibur?"

"Yes your sword! The one given to you by The Lady of the Lake! Caliburn!"

"Excalibur."

"Caliburn!"

" _Ex- cal- i - bur_."

" _Cal – i - burn_! _Cal – i –_ boof!"

"We can hear they have different names." Garrett said, smushing Kayley's face. Gaze falling blindly to Arthur's right, he asked. "But couldn't the sword have many names, especially in two lands? Can you describe Excalibur? Can you describe your sword?"

Arthur did. The description was unmistakable.

"Yes." Schmendrick confirmed, envisioning Arthur's illustration. "Excalibur _is_ Caliburn. Caliburn _is_ Excalibur. King Arthur _is_ the Once and Future King."

"Then why can't he remember being The King?" Garrett asked. "Don't mean to be cynical. It's just...odd."

Aiden chirped. He agreed.

Schmendrick was unperturbed. "Doesn't matter! Magic is a fickle, finicky thing! But Lady Amalthea is an immortal lady - she would recognize her king as a younger man, whereas I knew him at 119 years old! Your Majesty, may I ask...how old are you?"

"Nineteen."

"The exact age The King of the Otherland made Avalon to save his lady!" Schmendrick clapped. "Oh the powers of whoa! The magic is giving us signs, left and right, forward and back! King Arthur IS The Once and Future King!"

"Theme of the day." Shrek muttered, clearly disenchanted with their revelation. "Artie is king, that's just great! But what do we do know? Ruber's army is close enough to piss out our fire."

"Ew." said Devon.

"Cool." Cornwall said.

"We have to find Odette." Schmendrick motioned to Arthur. "Odette is the only one that can help us find Caliburn. By the powers – Odette might _have_ Caliburn! And once His Majesty is reunited with his magical sword, he will _vanquish_ our enemies with a mighty blow!"

Shrek glanced. Arthur was by no means a welp, but he _was_ slight of stature. Very wiry, very lean, very unintimidating. The kid needed to bulk up - a few dozen raw hamburgers would do him good. Shrek was 164% certain that their enemies would be undaunted.

Moreover, Elsa's curse was creeping back – Arthur became frostier with every labored breath. In Shrek's _humble_ opinion, Arthur would be better off seeking a hot tub jacuzzi instead of a magical sword.

"Screwy priorities. But whatever." Shrek tossed an icy branch into the fire. "So where do we find this Odette broad?"

"Ah, well…" Schmendrick respectfully removed his hat. "I thought perhaps Lady Amalthea could help us. My lady…?"

Schmendrick beseeched the unicorn. He looked ridiculous at first, but the unicorn's grace brought dignity to the moment. Even Shrek was silenced as Schmendrick deferred to the beautiful beast.

"My Lady…I…what must you think of me?" Schmendrick stood before the unicorn, hand on his heart. Shamefully, he whispered.

"I am the world's worst magician, by now you know. When I tried to protect you, my magic failed. I did not mean to transfigure you into a unicorn. My Lady… I am sorry. I am so, _so_ sorry. If we survive this quest, I shall retire from wizardry, I promise I will! Juggling and magic tricks will be good enough for me! Perhaps then…I can make people laugh… instead of cry."

Schmendrick wiped his nose. After vigorous clean, he continued. "King Arthur says that he dreamt of a beautiful lady that healed him by the light of the moon. Lady Amalthea, I _know_ that lady was you. Now…here is my theory. _Moonlight_ is the magic key. Do you remember that night we sought The Prophesy? Well, _moonlight_ revealed The Lady of the Lake."

Schmendrick circled the sky. "Since Odette is your sister, I believe that moonlight will also reveal your true form. Moonlight will change you from a unicorn to a lady. So, here is my proposition…"

Schmendrick waited, ensuring all could hear.

"By day you guide us to The Lady of the Lake. But tonight…when the moon is out… you will reunite with your king. And the king…will meet his lady."

All agreed. And it was with great wonderment that Arthur continued upon their quest.

"I…have a lady?"

The unicorn looked back. Arthur knew she was promising him something… something that kept his heart warmed until night fell, and the moon rose.


	127. Chapter 127: The Last Unicorn

**Chapter 127: The Last Unicorn**

That night, Arthur groomed to the best of his ability. Schmendrick tried to help (which was not helpful), as did Garrett (which was less helpful), and so did Shrek (which actually made things worse). Arthur resigned to scrubbing his cheeks with snow ( _ugh the cold_ ) and finger-combing his hair.

In the end, he still looked mangy. But at least he was clean – sort of.

"We will leave you now. Give you some privacy." Schmendrick practically danced as Shrek bunched Arthur under a tree and Kayley kindled a small fire. Schmendrick motioned to Garrett drifting along the outskirts, his ears (and Aiden's eyes) open for danger.

"Our campfire is over yonder, not far away. Just call if there's trouble, but I don't expect there will be. We are deep within Avalon. Ruber will never find us – it can't be long until we reach Odette! "

Arthur nodded. They'd been traveling all day, speed hindered by the snow. Arthur's heart had refrozen, and _once again_ hehad to be carried by Shrek. It was terribly inconvenient for the quest and agonizing for Arthur – after all, Lady Amalthea had been watching. He was embarrassed.

"Thank you Schmendrick." Arthur stared into the fire. "The sooner we find The Lady of the Lake, the better. For everyone. Anyway...thanks to all of you. Goodnight."

Schmendrick genuflected. And as he bowed, he extended two fingers and a thumb. "Think of a flower, Your Majesty. A flower for your lady. Then pinch. I might have a little magic left."

The magic inside Schmendrick's fingers pulsed, waiting for Arthur to select a flower that would please Lady Amalthea. But Arthur hesitated, remembering the starry night he tried to surprise Elsa with hot chocolate, and she shunned him like a clumsy little fool.

Schmendrick's smile faded. "Your Majesty? Don't be afraid. I know my magic has gone awry before, but I promise these _will_ be flowers, not snakes. I'm actually very good at this trick. Gardening – an age old magic. But if you think flowers are cheapish..."

"No. I'm sorry. I'm just – not sure what she – " Arthur reached for Schmendrick's fingers. Thinking fleetingly of Amalthea's clear, violet eyes, he pinched. Magic sprouted from Schmendrick's finger tips. There was a soft pop, a gentle sparkle, and then –

"Viola!" Schmendrick flipped his wrist, pulling a bouquet from midair. The flowers were brilliant lavender-blue, with silky, star shaped petals. "Flowers for your lady!"

"Violets?" Arthur guessed as Schmendrick passed him the bouquet.

Surprisingly, _Shrek_ corrected. "No those are periwinkles."

They all turned. Garrett's eyebrows rose, pleasantly amused. Aiden snickered.

"What? Ogres can't name flowers? Oh never mind!" Shrek plowed through the trees. Snow smattered from overhanging boughs as he grumbled. "Fiona _likes_ flowers! Artie – good luck and don't blow it!"

The group departed. Shrek was reprimanded as they left, but Arthur actually appreciated the farewell. He needed all the luck he could get, even if it came from Shrek. Lady Amalthea was gorgeous. But not only gorgeous – she was also graceful, enchanting, composed.

Schmendrick's assurances seemed too good to be true. Arthur couldn't believe that the beautiful lady was...his.

 _But she had kissed him?_ Arthur reasoned, _Hadn't she?_ _Either that or she had poured glitter over his lips, because that's how they felt! Glittery and tingly and amazingly on fire..._

Arthur pressed his lips. He squeezed the periwinkle bouquet. Then, with sudden resoluteness, he rose. Propping himself against the tree, Arthur waited for Lady Amalthea. Whether she loved him or not, he would receive her well.

Moonlight spread. Silver rays drizzled across the snow.

And Lady Amalthea appeared.

Arthur stared. Amalthea smiled as the periwinkles slipped from his dumbstruck fingers.

"Oh no...oh wait..." Arthur buckled trying to catch the flowers. He cringed, breathing heavily _. Wonderful first impression Arthur. Way to be all Wart in front of the gorgeous lady._

Nervous. He was NERVOUS.

"Sorry." Arthur glanced, almost dropping the flowers again. Hastily he rose. "I'm sorry – my lady. Sorry not _my_ lady, I didn't mean that. You're your _own_ lady, not _my_ lady, I don't own you, we've only just met – well I guess you've met me, but I haven't met you – but uh – "

Arthur would have kept rattling, but Lady Amalthea approached. Focusing on _not_ falling, Arthur clung to the tree. His heart throbbed as she neared.

Amalthea smiled. "You always do that."

Arthur blinked. Wind chimes. All he heard were wind chimes. "I'm so sorry. Could you please repeat that?"

She kindly complied. "You always do that."

"Do what?"

"Drop things."

"Drop things?"

"Yes." she said. "You always drop things when I enter a room. Stumble. Trip. Just a little, just a touch."

"Oh. Uh..." Arthur backed against the tree. His throat thickened as Amalthea stood before him. Toe to toe. "You think I uh...You think I would have grown out of that in 100 years. Clumsiness."

Amalthea cupped his cheek. "But then it wouldn't be you." she said, leaning for their second kiss.

Pow. Amalthea kissed him with sunshine. She warmed his frozen heart and reversed Elsa's curse. Somewhere in the back of his mind, Arthur remembered Magi (the ancient Ferngullian) diagnosing his ailment and stating that _only an act of true love can thaw a frozen heart._

Arthur leaned into Amalthea. He didn't know if this was true love, but _jumping harptoads_ it was doing the trick! With every kiss, Arthur felt stronger.

He was also confused, scared, and _deliriously_ happy. Amalthea knew everything he liked, navigated his body flawlessly. She was actually acting a little forward! True, she had 100 more years of experience with him than he had with her –

( _Diiiiiiiiiiid...that make sense?)_

-but Arthur was unprepared for their relationship to go this fast. Still, he allowed it, and for two very good reasons. (1) Arthur was chivalrous, and it would be unchivalrous to scold a lady. (2) Arthur was a nineteen year old boy with a gorgeous girl that adored him.

As Merlin would say: AlakaZAM.

"I'm sorry..." Arthur gasped between kisses. He clenched his heart, trying to retain the warmth. "Your name was? Lady Almalthea?"

"Almost." Amalthea drew back. Somehow they had slid down the tree and landed on earth. " _Am_ althea. You always put the L in front."

"The...L?"

"Al-malthea. That is what you say, but that is wrong. My name is A – malthea. Only one L."

Arthur flushed. "Oh I'm sorry!"

"Don't be."

"But I am! Names are important -"

"I think it is adorable."

"— I usually don't get names ...adorable?" Arthur felt gushy. "You do?"

"Yes." Amalthea said matter of factly. "I do."

Arthur was stunned. Thus far he'd done everything wrong. None of his mistakes would pass gracefully in court, or impress Elsa. But Amalthea...thought he was _adorable_.

"A-Malthea." Arthur recited, conscientious of the pronunciation. "Lady Amalthea."

Amalthea fingered a periwinkle. "You may call me Amalthea. Just Amalthea."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes."

"Positive?"

"You prefer Arthur. Remember?" Amalthea teased him with a quote. " _It's Arthur_."

"Oh, right." Arthur smiled. "It's...Arthur."

Amalthea smoothed her hair, revealing a bare shoulder. Arthur tried not to salivate. She caught him looking. Arthur jerked so fast his neck cracked. He winced. She smiled.

Arthur's confidence soared. _Amalthea smiled at his blunder._ _Maybe...she did like him._

"So um. You know about me." Invitingly Arthur beckoned. "Tell me about you. Start from the beginning. End whenever you like."

Amalthea laughed. "There's an awful lot to tell."

"That's okay, I'd love to hear it all in no particular order. Like...um... what is your favorite color?"

Amalthea lifted the flowers. "Blue violet."

"Like your dress!" Arthur exclaimed victoriously . Then he blushed. He'd been a little too robust. "I mean...it becomes you. The color, not the dress. Well _yes_ the dress does _certainly_ become you, but the color...does as well...umm."

Amalthea twinkled. "And your favorite color is blue."

"Yes." Arthur nodded, grateful for her transition. "I do like blue. But...do you know what type?"

"Light blue. With a little grey. Just like your eyes."

"Very good. Okay...next question..."

Arthur brainstormed. He ponderously pressed his chin. Amalthea raised her brows, ready for the challenge. Arthur grinned – now they were competing! Playing games! This was fun! "Okay...favorite cookie?"

"Mine or yours?"

"Yours first."

"Sugar."

"And mine?"

"Well you are not picky. But if you had to choose?" Amalthea rolled her eyes, indicating that the question was _so_ easy. "Gingersnaps."

"Spot on." Arthur edged closer. Amalthea had gentle humor – he liked that! "What is your favorite season?"

"Winter. You were born in winter."

"That's right! When were _you_ born?"

"Also in winter. Ten days after you."

"So the eleventh?"

"Yes. January eleventh. I've had many birthdays. I've lived a long life."

Arthur knew _'how long?'_ was an inappropriate question. Certain topics (such as age) were simply poor taste. Still, Arthur was dying to know. Amalthea didn't look a day older than he – but if Schmendrick's math was correct, she must be over 100.

"Well..." Arthur began. "You couldn't have had too many birthdays. We look the same age. I know your hair is white but...how old are you?"

Amalthea answered calmly. "I am immortal."

" _Immortal_?"

"Yes."

"Wow." Arthur said, understanding why Amalthea burned with the beauty of a star. Both were timeless. Both were eternal. "I've never met an immortal. What is it like?"

Amalthea saddened.

"Awful." she replied, hand on his knee. "I can feel you dying."

Arthur didn't know what to say. But he felt terrible.

"Oh. Well..." Arthur searched for an uplifting response. It was difficult. So he tried honesty. "Well...then what did you want with me? I mean...um...how did we meet?"

"I assume you mean before?" Amalthea clarified. "In the past?"

"Yes."

"You fell from a tree."

 _That_ surprised him. "I fell from a _what_?"

"You fell from a tree." Amalthea brightened at the memory. "Toppled me right over."

"Jumping harptoads." Arthur cursed his clumsiness. "Why did I do that?"

"Master Emrys had turned you into a squirrel." Amalthea's cheerfulness refreshed. "And from what I gathered, things were not going splendidly."

"Emrys? Squirrel?" Arthur revisited his student days, to his unorthodox tutelage with Merlin. Merlin had transfigured him into _several_ animals, squirrels included.

"Amalthea?" Arthur ventured. "Is Emrys, Merlin?"

She frowned slightly. "Merlin? Hm, I do not recognize that name. Master Emrys is Master Emrys. Perhaps Merlin is his other name?"

"I'm not sure." Arthur admitted.

Amalthea considered. "What does Merlin look like?"

"He's a wizard." Arthur said, atomically associating Merlin with his profession instead of his persona. "Merlin is the world's most powerful wizard. Tall, white beard, spectacles, hawk nose, and..."

Arthur debated. "Sort of grumpy." he finished

Amalthea laughed. "Yes! Mater Emrys is _undoubtedly_ Merlin. Does your wizard confer with an educated owl?"

"Archimedes?!"

"So he lives?"

" _Unfortunately_." they said together, then laughed at the joke.

"Merlin disappeared." Arthur continued. He didn't want to stop jesting with Amalthea, but felt urgent matters should be addressed. "A short time ago I had a sort of...heart attack. After that, Merlin just disappeared. But if Merlin is actually Emrys, then maybe Emrys can help us!"

Amalthea shook her head. "Master Emrys has also disappeared. His apprentice – Schmendrick – magicked him away when you were attacked."

"When I was attacked?"

"Two men and a dragon attacked your _past_ self, as you accepted Caliburn from Odette. Odette and I were transfigured...and you were stabbed through the heart."

Amalthea closed her eyes. "I suppose that could have felt like a heart attack to your future self...in Fantasia."

Arthur massaged his chest. " I was stabbed?"

"Yes." Amalthea sounded pained. "With Caliburn."

"Then Merlin and Emrys both disappeared..." Arthur murmured, dissecting the events. "And in a time of great need for my _past_ self...the guardians mysteriously return. I wonder. Did my past self... _call_? Did my past self call the guardians? Hm. This is an awful pickle. How are we ever going to straighten this out?"

Arthur ruminated. He glanced at Amalthea. She was overcast.

"Amalthea?"

She looked. "Arthur?"

 _Whoosh! She said his name! Excitement! Electricity in his core!_

"Amalthea." Arthur reached. Tentatively he withdrew. "I didn't mean to upset you. I'm sure we'll find Odette, and then Schmendrick will know what to do. You won't have to be a unicorn forever."

Amalthea smoothed her fingers. "We shall see. Odette can't be far away. If she is in Avalon, I will find her. After all, Odette is my sister."

"Sister? The Lady of the Lake is your sister?"

"Yes. I have two sisters. Odette and..." Amalthea darkened. "Eris."

Arthur detected her scorn – Amalthea spoke of Eris and he would of Kay. "Eris. I take it you don't get along?"

Perhaps it was coincidence, but the fire popped. A red hot ember spit at Amalthea. Arthur reacted, but Amalthea was still.

"No." Amalthea calmly brushed the ember from her skit. "Eris I did not _get along_. Eris sought the Otherland's energy, power, and magic. She sought the energy of chaos, the power of discord, and the magic of others. Eris is _actually_ the reason you and I met. You see, Eris had enslaved Odette and I. In our travels, she heard of Master Emrys. Eris wanted Emrys' power. So she brought us to Camelot."

Arthur did a double take. "Wait. Eris _enslaved_ you?"

"She did."

"That's disgusting! That's –" Arthur fought his temper. "How could Eris enslave her sisters? _Why_ would Eris enslave her sisters?"

"Why?" Amalthea tapped her forehead. "To catch unicorns."

"You're kidding."

"I kid you not. Unicorns are rare. Their bodies yield great power, especially when they've been...disemboweled. However, the fiercest hunter cannot capture a unicorn. Only a pure maiden, a _virgin_ , can lure a unicorn to it's death."

Amalthea stared at Arthur. "When we met, I pretended to love you. I pretended so you would make me impure, and I would be worthless to Eris. As a spoiled woman, I could not lure the unicorns. So I baited you."

Amalthea sighed. "Eris thought I was romancing _you_ to spy on Master _Emrys_. I let her believe that. I even complied, sharing secrets with Eris that you shared with me. But I didn't care. I wanted freedom from Eris, I _couldn't_ draw another unicorn to the slaughter. But...when _the_ night came... _the_ night of the last unicorn...the night I came to you..."

Amalthea breathed into the stars. "You refused. You said I was scared. You promised to protect me, but refused to soil my virtue. By then, I knew that you loved me and I loved you. But...Eris also knew. So, since you would not take me...Eris threw me to your enemies...so they would."

Arthur didn't realize he was reaching for Excalibur until he grasped midair. He looked down, but Amalthea had already taken his hand.

"My king." she whispered, "You let the castle walls come down. You let the armies take the crown. You drove Caliburn into the heart of Avalon to protect me. And you did. _You did._ The rest, comes to this moment. _This_ moment where our story is neither _happily_ nor _unhappily_ ever after. There is only us. Us..."

Amalthea circled his icy heart. "And this lady you seek."

"L – lady? Oh. Oh Amalthea, no, no, no." Arthur seized her hand. He held it inside both of his. "I do not love Elsa, and she does not love me. You see, Elsa accidentally struck me with her magic on our wedding..."

He paused. "Um..."

Amalthea looked sadly at the periwinkles freezing in the snow. "Only love can thaw a frozen heart."

"Yes." Arthur leaned into her gaze. "That is what Magi said. Love is the warmest emotion."

"And I could not break the curse. You are still cold. Your heart is still frozen." Amalthea gently pulled away. "Perhaps Elsa..."

"Allie no!" Arthur grabbed. Earnestly he spoke. "Elsa _does not_ love me, and I _do not_ love her. Please–something about you makes everything _wrong_ with me _right_! You make me proud to be a clumsy little fool and I don't know why, because you are the most gorgeous, honest, centered girl that I have ever met! And the kissing! The kissing _really_ helps! I feel _warmer_ , _stronger_ , _better_ than before! I – "

Arthur stopped. "Did I just call you Allie?"

Amalthea glowed. Her sadness dissolved. "You remembered."

"Remembered? Remembered what?"

"My nickname." Amalthea twirled a hand. "Remember when you pronounced my name wrong? Too many Ls, the L you put in the front? AL-malthea? Well, you turned the AL into Allie. _Allie_ is my nickname. You gave it to me. Long ago."

Arthur's smiled. "Do you like it?"

"Very much."

"Then, Allie." Arthur inhaled, preparing to take the biggest risk of his life. "Would you mind...if _I_ kissed _you_?"

She didn't. So he did.

Their love suffused the company. Kayley dreamt with Garrett. Schmendrick snuggled with Aiden. Shrek pined for Fiona. Devon kissed Cornwall. Cornwall wished he had a gun. But just a squirt gun, and a little one at that.

Arthur woke the next morning, his heart cold but strength returned. And as he stroked the unicorn, her head rest upon his chest, Schmendrick shrieked.

"Everyone up! There are shadows! Nightmares! Dragons! And a pirate ship in the sky! Hurry, hurry! Time is out! We have to find Odette!"

 **... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... .. ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ...**

 **sultal's note: I had a few requests for fan art of Arthur and Amalthea. I am 164% ALL for drawing art and posting it to my Deviant Art page. BUT - does anyone want anything in particular? Lemmie know.**

 **And again, because I have zero self control and believe Arthur needs MORE love, I am trying to write a short story of how he met Amalthea.**

 **FYI, yes according to my research, only virgin maidens can lure unicorns. Pretty cool - take that hunters of the world!**


	128. Ch 128: Dead Men Tell No Tales

**Chapter 128: Dead Men Tell No Tales**

"You know what I can't stand about beautiful women?"

Sinbad pressed a rum bottle against Marina's cheek. "Can't stand it when they're dumb. You see, Marina, you've got a nice ass and pretty face. But you're _dumb_. And that equals trouble. Right boys?"

Sinbad waited for his crew to heckle. They didn't disappoint him. Pirates – always good for a crude taunt.

The Fantasians, however, did not participate. Jim, John Smith, and Wendy watched silently. But each wore a different expression translating their displeasure. John Smith was flat, Jim was stony, and Wendy was disgusted – especially when the pirates attacked Marina's femininity.

Sinbad shrugged. Fantasians had a rep for being sappy. This was not a Sunday picnic – this was pirate ship. Marina got whatever she deserved.

Thanks to Marina, _The Princess_ was sailing right into Pitch's trap. Sinbad had _no doubt_ that Pitch knew _exactly_ where they were, and when they would arrive. Sinbad had a few tricks up his sleeve, but most were definite duds and Pitch was sure to call his bluff.

Thus far, Sinbad's plan was to LIE.

Sinbad would LIE that they had Pitch's shadow worker. Hopefully Pitch would bring them Sarah. And then? Eh, then Sinbad would give Jim an M16 assault rifle and let the kid blow Pitch's brains out. The rest: improvisation.

In the meantime, there was nothing they could do. Nothing except punish the wicked.

"My wife is a beautiful woman." Conversationally, Sinbad wound chains around Marina's feet. "But unlike you, my wife is not dumb. My wife can chart the ocean blindfolded. My wife is a mathematics wiz. My wife is beautiful and smart. And thanks to you – "

Sinbad yanked. The chains squeezed Marina's shins. "Thanks to you, _Marina_ , my wife is imprisoned by a complete psychopath."

Marina smirked. "Unless the complete psychopath raped your _beautiful_ , _smart_ wife to death."

Jim advanced, but Sinbad lifted a hand. His muscles were tensed. The pirates _heard_ the tension through his vocal cords.

"Take a look Marina." Sinbad's tone was _very_ dangerous. "See that landscape over there? See all this snow? We're almost to Avalon. Marina, you've got _seventeen seconds_ to tell me what you know about Pitch. Who is this shadow worker? What is Pitch planning to do with Jim? Where is he keeping Sarah? What messages have you been sending him in bottles?"

Marina said nothing.

Sinbad lost patience.

"I lost my wife once, Marina. I am _not_ losing her again. I will sacrifice _anyone_ for Sarah. _Anyone_. So if you die because you're too _dumb_ to tell me what I want to know..." Sinbad grasped Marina's chains. "Then I'll sleep like a baby."

Marina blew a dainty, poisonous kiss. "At least you won't be sleeping with your _beautiful_ , _smart_ – "

Sinbad didn't let her finish. With a single, violent shove, he flipped Marina overboard.

She hit the water. And sunk.

"Dead men tell no tales." Sinbad glared into the icy ocean. He waited for Marina's air bubbles to disappear before turning to the crew. "Comments? Questions? Concerns?"

No one moved.

"Sure?" Sinbad snarled.

A few grim nods.

"Savvy." Sinbad gathered the spare chains. "Continue course to Avalon. On my command we weigh anchor and – "

Wendy shouldered through the pirates, departing _before_ Sinbad had finished his instructions.

"Dreadful." she muttered, arms crossed and lips pursed. As she left, Miguel warned her to wait for Sinbad's dismissal. It was offensive to leave without permission. Wendy ignored him. She marched as far away from Sinbad as _The Princess_ allowed.

Sinbad debated. He caught Jim's eye, and suddenly remembered the first time Jim had been spanked. Ironically, Sinbad _also_ remembered that the hardest part about fatherhood was not the spanking – it was the following lecture. The life lessons.

Sinbad glowered at Wendy.

"As you were." he finally said, handing Jim the chains. "Full steam ahead to Avalon. Every man to his post. Jim take charge. I'm...father-daughter _bonding_."

It sounded gross. But Sinbad nodded reassuringly to Jim.

Jim looked skeptical, but nodded back.

"Don't hurt her." he warned, following Dimitri across deck, "She's been through a lot. I think she just wants to go home."

Sinbad had no idea why Jim tagged that last part, about 'going home.' But the comment made him pause.

Jim glanced back, waiting for Sinbad to admit that he also just wanted to go home. But that was a secret Sinbad was too afraid to tell. However, before following Wendy, Sinbad gave Jim a small smile.

Jim's hope grew. Returning the favor, he allowed Sinbad to _'bond'_ with Wendy.

With any luck, she wouldn't kill him.

 **… … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … …** **… … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … …**

Secondary to Wendy's scowl, Sinbad noticed that her left hand was ugly.

Obviously, she injured it during the punching fiasco. Her fingers were swollen, her knuckles were bloody, and her wrist was black and blue – no wonder that left hook hurt!

"Not too bad. Basic bruising for a rookie." Sinbad prepped Wendy's hand on his knee. _Boo-boos and Band-Aids : a job dads do best._

"Ooo, you had the thumb _inside_ your fist when you punched, huh?" Sinbad assessed. "Yikes, this thumb looks _bad_. But I don't think you broke it – next time keep your thumb on the _outside_ when you sock a guy's nose, kay?"

Sinbad had meant to be complimentary and educational. But Wendy was unimpressed. She looked smoothly away, nose in the air.

Sinbad smiled. He dabbed a canvass over her knuckles, mopping the blood. "Still don't like me, do ya Scrimpy?"

"My _name_..." she said derisively. "Is Wendy. And no I don't like you."

"Why?"

"Well for starters you haven't freed Pips."

"I untied him, just like you asked."

"He's no better off in that horrid prison cell."

"Okay so I bent your request." Sinbad turned Wendy's wrist. He wiped her palm. "But Ferngullians are tricky, very _attuned_ with nature. I'm not letting _Mr. Pips_ run across my ship. Next thing you know he'll be chanting love songs to the seaweed, and we'll be swimming in a bed of kelp-seed."

Wendy scoffed. "Like your lady friend."

"Who, Marina? She had to go, couldn't be helped. Marina's been sneaking with Pitch this whole time. Heck, we're being trailed by undead mermaids – they probably saved Marina. However, since _you_ are Miss High and Mighty, what _should_ I have done? Any good suggestions? Spanked her?"

"You _probably_ would have enjoyed it."

Sinbad hooted. Wendy's comment caught him off-guard, but it was uncannily accurate (in all honesty).

"You got spunk kid." Sinbad picked through the _Band-Aids._ He looked for a 'girl' themed one. "Like father like daughter."

Wendy jerked. "Would you _please_ stop saying that?"

"Why?" Sinbad asked again. "Because I'm the bad man who left and never came back? Did Jim tell you why I had to leave?"

"He told me _your_ version."

"You mean the _true_ version."

"That's still no excuse."

"Why?"

" _Why_?"

"Yes _why_?" Sinbad countered. "I had to protect my family. If I stayed, Jim _and_ Sarah would probably be dead. I thought a lifetime of shame and loneliness was a fair trade for their lives. Don't you? Or was I way off?"

Wendy frowned. She hadn't a comeback. Defeated, she returned to the open ocean.

Sinbad exploited the silence. Taking advantage of Wendy's quiet (wow, so she _could_ stop talking) he studied her for signs of Mary Darling. Helplessly, he wondered who this girl was and, more importantly, what about her made Jim so devoted.

"So..." Sinbad peeled off a Band-Aid. He'd forgotten to disinfect. "So you're Mary and George's kid?"

Wrong topic.

"Congratulations." Wendy seethed. "You accurately identified my parents this time."

"Hey." Sinbad uncorked a whisky bottle. "What do you mean _accurately identified_ your _parents_? What you got against Sarah? She's a good mom, ain't she?"

Wendy softened. She gazed at Avalon, stretched dimly across the horizon. "Sarah is the best mother in the world. She..." Wendy sighed. "I do hope she's alright."

Sinbad was touched. Wendy was concerned for his wife. Again, Sinbad wondered how this girl had ingrained so deeply into his family.

"So how'd you meet Jim?" Sinbad swished the cloth canvass inside the whiskey, purposefully taking his time. "When'd you meet? Couldn't have been long after I left?"

Wendy watched the whiskey swirl. "It was _immediately_ after you left."

"Really?"

"Yes."

"So you met Jim when I was permanently out of the picture?"

"Yes."

"Ha." Sinbad unplugged the bottleneck. "Guess you lucked out!"

Wendy almost laughed. Sinbad grinned as she visibly fought a smile, unprepared for his joke. Confidence reinforced, Sinbad poised the whiskey-soaked canvass over Wendy's knuckles. He shifted, improving his view.

"So..." Sinbad angled the canvass. Whiskey dripped over his fingers. "What's your favorite color? Pink?"

Wendy blinked. "Excuse me?"

"Favorite color." Sinbad repeated. "I'm just interested. Never had a daughter – so go ahead favorite color. Bet its pink, right?"

Wendy looked simultaneously incredulous and revolted. "It's green. Shamrock green. And I am _not_ playing this game with you. You are not my father, my father is dead. But if I were to consider anyone remotely close to _being_ my father, it would not be you, it would be Jim."

Sinbad was actually intrigued. "Really? Well that explains why you're not dating. So Jim is the father figure? Bet that made the romantic life miserable, huh? Kid's an animal. Did you guys ever date?"

Wendy smoldered. "Don't you listen? I was trying to end the conversation."

"Your motor runs on too many cylinders for that, Scrimpy. I don't think you could stop talking if you tried!"

"You – I can't believe you! You are completely – ouch!" Wendy recoiled as Sinbad squeezed whiskey over her knuckles. Her cuts stung; the whiskey burned like acid. But Wendy smelled the alcohol and panicked.

"You didn't tell me you were going to – no, no stop I don't drink I – don't _put_ that on me!"

Sinbad clenched. A little vindictively, he resumed their conversation. "Whuups should have warned you – it's to disinfect. Don't worry it's just whiskey. Kay so, where were we? Oh yes. Romantic life – so what's wrong with my son? Not good enough for you to date? It's the rattail isn't it? Darn thing, he really should comb it once in a –"

"If you are trying to embarrass me, it's not going to work!" Wendy snapped. "I know what you're doing, I'm not scared of you, or the alcohol, or your filthy insinuations! So _if you_ _please_ – I _do not_ want to talk!"

Wendy wrenched free. She started cleaning her hand, but not against her clothes – she wiped it against the deck. It didn't help. The alcohol glistened against her skin. With every swipe Wendy became more frustrated. Extremely.

Suddenly, Sinbad understood. "You're afraid of alcohol. Aren't you?"

Wendy did not respond. But she bit her lip, repressing a memory.

Firmly, Sinbad took her hand. "Sorry Scrimpy." Wringing the canvass, he gently dried. "I was only fooling."

Sinbad rarely felt guilt. But the pang hit him hard. He _had_ purposefully picked on Wendy – payback for the abandonment comments. For some reason, this little girl made him feel rotten for abandoning his family. A glare from Wendy was infinitely worse than Jim's swearing.

But Wendy intrigued Sinbad. She was loyal to Jim, that was clear. And she loved Sarah. Plus, she _did_ have a darn good left hook – for a girl. Wendy was feisty, although she pretended not to be.

Moreover, Sinbad admired her for something else. She _had_ to be scared. The only girl on a pirate ship? Yeah, she was scared. At least she was uncomfortable. But Sinbad respected Wendy's attempts to act unintimidated: throwing left hooks and witty retorts like she owned the place – even though she clearly wanted to cry.

 _Okay. Honest injun?_ Sinbad inwardly admitted: _If he had a daughter, Wendy would make the list. Sure she was a sparkplug. But Jim was a flame torch. He could handle a sparky little plug._

 _Alas. Daughters. Nothing like sons._

 _It was time to ease off the teasing._

"So. Pretty little shrimp like you..." Sinbad bandaged her hand. "Gotta boyfriend?"

He expected an explosion. But Wendy didn't.

She saddened.

"No. I don't."

"Really? Wouldn't have called that. You – " Sinbad caught a glimmer. He looked. Wendy's eyes were glassy. Sinbad recognized that face. All too well.

"Ahh. I see." He rubbed her bruised knuckles. "Broken heart?"

She didn't respond.

"Did he have a name?"

Silence. Wendy started to speak, but it turned into a ragged, uneven sigh.

Sinbad smoothed the last Band-Aid. "Wanna talk?"

"With you?" Caustically, Wendy fingered her bandages. "No."

Sinbad hesitated. Then he pressed. "He hurt you pretty bad. Didn't he?"

"I do not –" Wendy said "—want to talk."

"Scrimpy. It's okay." He touched her shoulder. "Some guys are just born scumba –"

"Please—can't you just –" Wendy jerked away. Sinbad realized he'd needled into a topic she'd been trying to forget.

"I'm sorry Scrimpy. That was none of my business. Still..." Sinbad paused as Jim looked over, almost clairvoyantly sensing Wendy's pain. Before Jim could interject, Sinbad shook his head, signifying that everything was under control.

"Still," Sinbad continued, tapping Wendy's arm. "Whoever he was, he's an idiot for making you feel this way. Asshole, in my opinion. And I know assholes." Sinbad winked. "Takes one to know one, right?"

Wendy stared at her bandages. "Language. Please. And it wasn't his fault. " She looked away. "It was mine."

Sinbad drummed his fingers. He considered Wendy. Then,

"Yo! Miguel!"

Miguel flounced over. "Aye aye!?"

Sinbad lifted Wendy's chin. "Think she's pretty?"

Miguel lit like a firefly. "Oh aye _aye_!"

Sinbad turned pragmatically to Wendy. "Miguel – five foot seven, slim build, silky blonde, plays mandolin, and likes long walks on the beach during tsunami season. Also has a thing for beagles and nacho chips. Like?"

Wendy's surprise turned into embarrassment. "I beg your pardon?"

Miguel had already caught on. And he was overjoyed.

"I also salsa dance!" Miguel demonstrated his skills. "Alalalala laaaaaaa bumba!"

Sinbad laughed. "That's the rumba but nice try! Okay NEXT! Tulio! Get your butt over here."

"Oh for goodness sake –" Wendy stood, "this is absolutely ridicu – "

Sinbad pulled her down. "Not so fast Scrimpy! Best cure for an old heartache is a new boyfriend! I'm doing the dad thing whether you like it or not! TULIO – strike a pose!"

"What?"

"Speed dating, mark set go!"

Unenthusiastically, Tulio complied. But as Sinbad listed his attributes, Tulio became more enthused.

"Tulio!" Sinbad gestured. "Raven locks, alabaster skin, bit dry and neurotic at first glance, but I hear he's a maniac in bed –"

Wendy rose – Sinbad reeled her in.

"Tulio enjoys fencing, buckled footwear, and if you gaze into those deep blue eyes you might forget that he screams like a girl! Okay NEXT! Dimitri, you're at bat, Eret you're in the box!"

They continued, gathering around, over zealously trying to impress Wendy, and laughing at each other's expense. Distantly, Jim smiled as Vlad swept Wendy into Miguel's open arms. Sinbad nodded permission. Miguel swung Wendy into a salsa dance.

As she and Miguel passed, Wendy mouthed _Help!_ to which Jim humorously shrugged. It was nice to see Wendy smiling for a change. He still got the protective itch, but strangely, Jim felt a larger pang thinking of Peter.

 _Peter._

Watching Wendy, Jim imagined a scenario. _Ha. If Peter saw this he would flip. Joke or not, Miguel would be deader than a_ –

Jim stopped. _Wow. Peter would flip. He wouldn't ask questions. He'd run Miguel through, fly Wendy to the crow's nest, and fight to the death. Interesting._

"And gentlemen!" Sinbad spun Wendy from Miguel. "Your lady in waiting, Miss Scrimpy! Petite as a shrimp. Cute as a button. Comes with an accent, blue bow, decent left hook, and I bet a right hook to kingdom...kingdom...come..."

Sinbad's voice dropped. During his rant, Sinbad had lifted Wendy's right hand, to signify her "right hook." But as he held her wrist, Wendy's forearm was exposed. Her forearm – and her scars. The scars spelling SHADOW WORKER.

Sinbad elevated Wendy's right arm. He rotated her wrist. He read the white scars.

His face fell.

"Shadow...worker. You're..." Sinbad looked at Wendy, Pitch's ransom note burned in his mind's eye. "You're also a shadow worker."

The hilarity died. Wendy withdrew her hand. She stumbled into the crew. Their bodies pressed against hers as Sinbad raised the blunt of his sword.

"I – "

It happened so fast.

"Wen!" Jim ran as Wendy collapsed, her forehead bleeding onto the deck. A bag was stuffed over her head so she couldn't see the shadows. Ropes were wrapped over hands so she couldn't work them. Jim screamed for them to stop, but Sinbad turned a blind eye.

"No! What are you doing?" Jim struggled through Eret and Vlad. He fought viciously, shouting to Sinbad. "Stop it! Get off her don't – "

"Tie her up!" Sinbad barked, dragging Wendy below. "Cover her hands!"

"No!"

"Pitch wants shadow worker in exchange for Sarah! Well he's GOT one!"

"Wait!"

"We'll take her to Pitch!"

"Stop!"

"If she dies, then she – "

"DAD!"

Sinbad froze. Jim's cry hit him like a knife.

"Don't!" Jim begged to his father's back. "Dad please! _Don't_!"

The scene replayed, exactly as it had ten years before. And justly so. Because Sinbad shuddered -

\- and ignored his son.


	129. Chapter 129: Black Ice

**Chapter 129: Black Ice**

"Done."

Elsa wiped her tears. The Black Cauldron sat before her, shards assembled with magical ice. The ice was black against the metal. Elsa's fingers burned with the cold. But the deed was done. The Black Cauldron was whole.

Elsa was afraid. She could _feel_ the Black Cauldron trying to inhale her soul. Without Wendy's shadow magic, the Black Cauldron was still incomplete, but it's powers were slowly rebuilding.

Elsa knew she had sinned. However, her sins had been committed amongst countless prayers for Arthur.

Elsa grasped the Black Cauldron. Palm stinging, she rose.

"Jack!" she called, delirious with hope. "Jack! It's done! I did it! The Black Cauldron is finished! Jack! Jack hurry! Jack where are – "

Elsa paused. Someone had appeared, but it was the last person she would have ever expected.

"Peter Pan?"

Peter did not respond. He merely hovered over the ice. He gazed at Elsa vacantly, an unconscious woman in his arms. Elsa peered. She recognized the woman. It was Sarah Hawkins. Jim Hawkins' mother.

"Peter? What are you doing here?"

Again Peter did not respond, but Elsa had already formulated answers of her own. Perhaps Peter had been sent to punish her for Arthur's death – after all, he was one of King Arthur's guardians. Or, perhaps Peter had come to help! Elsa remembered that Peter had once spoken to Jack – when Jack was invisible. Yes, they were in _Tiana's Palace_ , and Peter had spoken to Jack after Wendy's shadow working disaster –

Elsa brightened. "Peter! Did you bring Wendy? Jack said that Wendy could summon King Arthur's soul! Jack sent you with Wendy, didn't he? Peter? Peter are you alright?"

Peter was not alright. Elsa was poorly acquainted with Peter, but he had always been an animated character, larger than life. But now he was flat. Undead. Not himself. However, when Elsa mentioned Wendy, Peter spasmed like a sore muscle. He growled. He stuttered. He struggled to speak.

"Peter?" Timidly, Elsa approached.

She was suddenly intercepted by Pitch. Brushing Peter's temple, Pitch recovered the shadow's control. Peter calmed, black nightmare-sand glittering over his brow.

"There." Pitch turned. His eyes glowed hungrily at the Black Cauldron. "All better. Much…much better."

Elsa retreated. She bumped into the Black Cauldron as Pitch advanced. "Jack? Jack what's going on? What's wrong with Peter? And Wendy. Is she here? You said that Wendy - "

"Shhh." Pitch took Elsa's wrist. Without releasing, he caressed the Black Cauldron, his hand over hers. "Everything is perfect. Oh yes. Yes my snow queen… _perfect_. _Look_ at what you _created_!"

Elsa cringed. She tried to pull from the metal. "Jack it's cold. Please stop – "

"Cold?" Pitch curled Elsa's fingers around the brim. "Nothing is colder than you. As they say: you are an _icy force both foul and fair, with a frozen heart worth mining. Strike for love. Strike for fear. See the beauty sharp and sheer. Split the ice apart. Beware the frozen heart._ Just like darkness. Just like me."

Pitch squeezed, compressing her hand into the black ice. "And _nothing_ goes better together than cold and dark. My queen."

Elsa stared at Pitch.

His touch was colder than the Black Cauldron. His touch was _not_ the magic she had felt that night so long ago. The night she first met Jack Frost.

Elsa whispered. "You're not Jack."

Pitch smiled. Delicately he kissed Elsa's cheek. "My snow queen….does it really matter? Or _didn't_ you want King Arthur to return back to life? Because if you don't, fine. We'll say goodbye to that perfect girl. But if you _do_ , then I suggest you be a good girl. The good girl you always have to be. Come Elsa…The Wishing Star is rising."

Pitch shrouded her in darkness. "It's almost bedtime."

 **... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... .. ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... .. ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... . ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ...**

Captain Hook pressed an apple peeler to Ariel's neck. Gathering her skin, he squished her flesh between the blades.

Ariel soundlessly screamed.

"Ask politely and I'll stop." Captain Hook picked juicy chunks from the blade. He continued artistically, making shallow swipes along her neck – like mermaid scales. "Louder my dear. I can't hear you. Don't you like this? I gave Miss Darling _her_ scars and they are _quite_ decorative. My, my. Swoggle me eyes…"

Captain Hook sliced behind her ear. He held as Ariel recoiled. "And I thought the popular girls were supposed to be stylish. But I shouldn't be surprised. After all you've an _unfashionable_ taste in men. Speaking of which…"

Captain Hook pulled Ariel's locket. The chain dug into her bleeding neck. Reading the golden inscription, he cooed. " _Melody_. Aw. How cute. Did Mr. Hawkins give you this? Or has it something to do with the baby socks in your back pocket?"

A skirmish followed wherein Captain Hook searched for the baby socks and Ariel struggled. Hook had brought her to the ship's kitchen, and the _Jolly Roger_ pirates watched Ariel's torture easily as eating pie. Ruber and Drago filtered into the throng. The villains cheered. They flung food at Ariel.

Facilier observed from a detached corner. He sat reclined, feet elevated, and a four-of-clubs between two fingers. The floor show was not entertaining. No one was dying. No one was dead. Just a moderate spillage of blood. Facilier crossed his ankles. Boring.

Then Facilier's shadow appeared. And the entertainment drastically improved.

"Gents." Facilier flipped his playing card. The four-of-clubs flicked magically into the nine-of-diamonds. "Message from Pitch. The Black Cauldron is rebuilt. He and Pan are coming with Elsa. All we need now…"

Facilier rotated his card in sequence. Which each turn, the face changed. First, to a queen-of-diamonds.

"All we need, is Darling to magaick the Black Cauldron."

 _Flick._ King-of-spades. "Hawkins to fix the Wishing Star."

 _Flick._ King-of-hearts. "And Arthur Pendragon. To throw inside the Black Cauldron. To lock behind the Wishing Star. To destroy before he can find Excalibur and destroy us. Jimminy…"

Facilier shuffled the card into his deck. "Wish I could get it on tape."

 _Wish? Wish?_ Ariel cocked her head, registering to Facilier's comments as _The Jolly Roger_ sailed through the snow. She thought. She remembered.

 _Wish. They wanted Wendy to finish rebuilding the Black Cauldron. They wanted Jim to fix the Wishing Star. They wanted the trap Arthur within the portal, between the Black Cauldron and Wishing Star –_

 _Wish._

Ariel gasped. Doubled over Captain Hook, she stared at her locket. The seashell pendant dangled from her neck, wet with her blood. She remembered the night Jim gave her the locket. It was the night he gave her the baby socks.

It was the night they wished on _Alpha Eridani._

 _Arthur. Wishing Star._

 _Wish._

Ariel soundlessly screamed. She fought wildly against the pirates, but not because they were hurting her. Ariel screamed because she knew how to win the war. She knew how to take Fantasia.

But there was a problem – Ariel hadn't a voice to tell.

 **... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... .. ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... .. ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... . ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ...**

Jack crouched on a cloud. Below, the ocean frothed around _The Princess_. Jack listened. People were screaming on board. He could hear them, even in the sky.

He waited. He tilted as the ship passed under the cloud.

Then Jack pounced. He swept over _The Princess_. He sliced between Jim and Sinbad, seized Wendy and disappeared.

He left nothing but a snow flurry.


	130. Chapter 130: Morph's Job

**Chapter 130: Morph's Job**

"No! NO!" Jim tore across the deck. He threw off his jacket, preparing to dive after Wendy, but just as Morph shaped into a snorkel, Sinbad hauled Jim from the rail.

"Get off!" Jim ground his heels. He wrenched Sinbad's hands. He twisted for the scimitar, but Sinbad dodged his every swipe. "Get the hell off me you son of a – "

"Give up, she's gone!" Sinbad shoved Jim against the mast. "Pitch wanted you _and_ a shadow worker in exchange for Mom! Well now Pitch has his shadow worker and we have NO leverage! Well Pitch also wants you, BUT I am NOT giving you up Jim, so we are going to need a damn good plan to save Mom!"

Jim thrashed. "Get off me! Wendy - "

"Jim forget it, she's gone! It's just us!"

"Us? _US_?" Jim screamed. "You don't know the meaning of _US_! You don't know what it's like to break and have every piece put back together by someone that doesn't care if she gets cut! You don't know how it feels to die inside when someone else cries! You have NO IDEA what it means to be _US_! But Wen and I – we have NO IDEA how NOT to be US!"

Sinbad could have compared Jim to a hundred horrible things: a storm, a volcano, a knife to the gut. But none touched his anger. None captured his hate.

But Sinbad was _incensed_.

"How _dare_ you. How _dare_ you say that to me! Everything I've done, I've done for your mom! You want to talk about _sacrifice_? You want to talk about _faith_?" Sinbad wrung his enchanted seashell necklace. "I've been on the run my _entire life_ , keeping the monsters away from you and Mom!"

Jim spit. "You've been on the run because you don't give a _damn_!"

" _You're_ the one that doesn't _give a damn_!" Sinbad fired testimonials. " _You're_ the one with the police record, high as the sky! _You're_ the one that calls me son of a bitch! _You're_ the one that brags about some _other father,_ and throws him in my face! _You're_ the one that hasn't proposed to the girl of your dreams! _You're_ the one that can't forgive! _You're_ the one that can't forget! _You're_ the only Hawkins that _does not want me back_! _You're_ the one ashamed to be my son!"

Sinbad pointed viciously over Jim's shoulder, to Avalon.

"Well if you can't stand me, then go! GO! Beat it! Join your _sister_! She's that important? More important than Mom? Fine! Go save her! She was our _last chance_ for saving Mom!"

" _Wrong_." Jim backed bitterly from his father. " _I am_. Pitch still wants me. Wen's in trouble. And when I say forever..." Jim hearkened to the night he became Wendy's best friend. "I make that promise for ever."

With no more farewell, Jim disappeared. He stole a longboat, crashed into the ocean, and rowed to Avalon. Sinbad pretended not to care. He pretended to scoff as Jim was seized by the _Jolly Roger_. He pretended not to notice that Jim scraped an eye into his shoulder, kneading a god damn tear.

As his son would say: _whatever_. Separate it and you got Sinbad's two favorite words: _what ever._

Sinbad just barked a command, set his ship to the wind, and pretended not to knead a tear of his own.

 _The Princess_ sailed away. Completely dry eyed.

But Morph...Morph cried. In fact, Morph sobbed his unhappy little self through the shadows, through the dragons, through the snow...

...and into outer space.

Everyone was captured. Everyone was mad. They needed help. And not long ago, Morph had been charged with a _very_ important job, should they ever need help.

Morph had vowed to keep his promise. And, like Jim, Morph kept his promises.

Forever.

And forever is an awfully long time.


	131. Chapter 131: In The Name Of Love

**Chapter 131: In The Name Of Love**

Jack followed the nightmares to the scariest one of all. He flew directly to Pitch.

"Here! I've got her! I've got Wendy!" Jack carried Wendy onto the _Jolly Roger_. Nightmares watched hungrily as he offered her to Pitch. "I've got your shadow worker, so hand over Elsa! Come on Pitch!" Jack eyed his staff, still in Pitch's possession. "You promised."

Pitch turned, breaking from his conference with Ruber, Drago, and Captain Hook. Aside from Pitch, no one could see Jack, but when the villains saw Wendy they celebrated.

" _At last_. Miss Darling." Captain Hook appraised Wendy's bondages. "Someone even tied her up for us! How thoughtful, just like pre cut meat. Poor dear, she looks terribly uncomfortable."

Captain Hook caressed Wendy through her wrappings. "Pitch, who is this frost phantom that brings us Miss Darling?"

Jack swerved before Pitch could respond. "Bug off bozo, this is between me and Pitch! And I'm not giving _any_ of you Wendy until you give me Elsa!"

Ice prickled around Jack's feet. Captain Hook wryly interpreted the outburst. "Well, someone seems a tad _frosty_."

"Good one." Jack snarled as Pitch advanced. "Funny, _hooked_ right onto that pun."

"You've done well, Jack Frost, don't spoil your success." Pitch materialized behind Jack. Palm on his shoulder, he led Jack portside. The pirates had extended a gangplank over the bulwark, pointed directly at Avalon.

Jack skipped airborne as Pitch ushered him onto the plank. "You guys do know I can fly, right?"

Pitch pointed beyond the plank, deep within Avalon. His finger nearly disappeared into the swirling snow. "Elsa is there Jack, in the heart of this snowstorm. Peter Pan is watching over her, waiting for us to arrive with Miss Wendy."

Jack adjusted Wendy. "And then? Pitch you said this would be a trade. Wendy for Elsa."

"And it _will_ be a trade." Pitch assured, playfully jouncing the plank. "Once Wendy and Elsa repair the Black Cauldron, reawaken the souls inside, I will give you Elsa."

The villains snickered. Captain Hook inwardly congratulated Pitch. Neither Elsa nor Wendy would survive the Black Cauldron's resurrection. When their powers combined, Wendy would freeze and Elsa could lose her soul. _So yes Jack: Pitch would hand over Elsa. She might be soulless and insane, but she would be fairly traded._

Jack noticed the smirks. He glanced at Wendy. "What's going to happen to her?"

"What?"

"When I get Elsa, what's going to happen to Wendy?"

Pitch wagged a finger. "Curiosity killed the cat, Jack Frost. Don't be sentimental, it's an unhealthy practice and really not your style. Remember? You are Jack Frost. You are not an idealist, you are not a crusader, you are not a protector...you are not a _guardian_."

Pitch smiled. "And neither do you want to be. You only want what I want – to be seen. To be believed in. To be loved. And those selfish desires, can never deem you a guardian."

Jack stiffened. He looked at Wendy, bound and bloody in his arms. Then his chest caved, just slightly, in a silent, outward admittance of the evil inside.

Pitch summoned his nightmares. Nightmare-sand mixed with Jack's frost and Elsa's snowflakes. The sunset glinted sharply through the blend.

"Elsa is that way." Pitch redirected. "Follow the snowstorm until you reach the bones of a fallen king – The King of the Otherland. There The King rests, the Black Cauldron on his grave. Hurry Jack, Elsa is waiting."

Pitch snapped his fingers. "I will meet you there."

Nightmares swept Jack and Wendy from the plank, driving them into Avalon. Trusting that his nightmares would not allow an escape, Pitch addressed the villains with newfound urgency.

"We are close to victory. Timing is everything now! King Arthur is in Avalon, I want him found! Ruber, lead our armies into Avalon. Burn _everything_ , force King Arthur into our hands! The rest of you -"

Pitch gestured to the sky. "The Wishing Star must be fixed! The Black Cauldron will opensoon , thanks to Miss Darling's powers. But the Wishing Star _must be fixed_ to close the portal and trap our enemies inside! And the Wishing Star cannot be fixed without the Outerworld Guardian!"

Pitch seized the ship's railing. Nightmares whisked excitedly as he found _The Princess_ , drifting on the icy sea. "Sinbad has stalled long enough. He _has_ Jim Hawkins. He _has_ his son!"

Pitch spun, fingernails scraping the rail. "Captain Hook, fetch Sinbad's wife. I sent Peter Pan with Elsa to Avalon, Sarah Hawkins is in the brig. Either Sinbad surrenders Jim Hawkins, or his wife _dies_. I am not playing anymore games with that pirate."

Suddenly, Jim dropped onto the deck. "Then play games with this one."

Pitch was surprised, but Captain Hook reacted immediately. The Battle to Take Fantasia had trained him to expect surprise attacks, especially from the guardians. The guardians' inexperience made them dangerously unpredictable in war. So Captain Hook was ready.

Jim allowed the villains one step.

Then he placed Sinbad's pistol to his temple.

"I'll do it."

They stopped. Captain Hook stayed his pirates, Ruber stayed his men, and Drago stayed his dragons.

But Pitch gently laughed.

"Jim Hawkins. Son of Sinbad. So, you're going to kill yourself if we attack?" Pitch paced, a note of congratulations in his voice. "Well that would be bad. You wouldn't be able to fix The Wishing Star. Hm. Heard my plan, did you?"

Jim tightened his finger on the trigger. "You're a dumb ass for bragging aloud."

"And you are highly intuitive. Very intelligent. Good at figuring out how things work. For instance..."

Pitch strode airily across the deck, despite Jim's directive to halt. "For instance, why would I continue to walk towards you, when you are threatening to shoot yourself? After all, I need you to fix the Wishing Star...why would I advance?"

Jim answered. "Because you have my mom. You know I want her."

"Correct."

"Sinbad sent me." Jim lied, elbow jerking to the ocean. "And he was going to give you Wendy. A deal is a deal. You get us. Sinbad gets my mom. So _stop moving_ , let my mom go, bring back Wendy..." Jim ground the gun into his temple. "And I am _not_ god damn joking."

Pitch lingered to a halt. He was silent. But he did not stop smiling.

Jim waited. Finally, "Are you going to give me mom and Wendy or not?"

Pitch reached backwards. "No." he replied, accepting two tiny items from Captain Hook. Calmly, he held a closed fist before Jim and dropped. "No, I am not."

The items fell. They hardly made a sound.

Jim stared as two baby socks, soft and white, hit the filthy deck.

The pistol lowered. Jim felt his heart blow up.

"Ariel."

The response was disgusting. The villains goaded Jim with sexual innuendos and steamy, sensual descriptions of Ariel. They mocked his manhood, wondered if Ariel would still scream Jim's name in bed with one of them—

Jim shot three villains before returning the gun to his head.

"You tricked me before, Hook. I'm not falling for this again!" Furiously, Jim angled the pistol. The barrel shook against his temple. He was beside himself with rage. "Remember? The Battle to Take Fantasia? You stole Ariel's trident, made me believe she was captured! Well not this time! Either you show me Ariel _right now_ , or I'm not giving you anything!"

"Oh, correction." Pitch strolled over the baby socks. "You _will_ give me Fantasia, Jim Hawkins. And I will tell you why. You, as I mentioned, are highly intelligent. On the surface you appear robotic, driven by reason and logic. However, you have a _remarkable_ character flaw."

Pitch growled. "You Jim Hawkins...are _emotional_. And your emotions are uncontrollable. You try to hide them. You close them behind bars. But your emotions always manifest in the end – whether you are laughing on your solar surfer, fighting to protect your little sister, crying within a cyborg's embrace..."

Pitch stood before Jim. "...or surrendering without question because the Boogie Man may have your little mermaid. It doesn't matter that you were tricked before. It doesn't matter if we are tricking you now. The decision is yours. And we both know the decision you will make...all because of that one little emotion..."

Pitch drew a heart over Jim's chest. "All in the name of love."

Was it the truth? Of course.

Jim surrendered, with an embittered promise to fix the Wishing Star, as Wendy fixed the Black Cauldron. Thus it began, just as it had in the Battle to Take Fantasia. Drago's army filled Avalon's skies. Ruber's army covered the land. Pitch retreated to the epicenter of evil, to the Black Cauldron where Peter held Elsa captive, and Jack delivered Wendy. Ariel and Sarah Hawkins remained imprisoned, in the belly of Captain Hook's pirate ship.

Captain Hook weighed anchor, and _The Jolly Roger_ sailed Jim Hawkins into the stars.

Pitch Black was exuberant. He was gloriously happy.

However, there was still a pesky problem to resolve.

"King Arthur."


	132. Chapter 132: Hurry

**Chapter 132: Hurry**

When Ariel left them, the Vikings and Fantasians did not fare well. They also did not ' _farewell_ ,' and they didn't for a ridiculous reason: Merida had Inferno, Hiccup had Ariel's trident, and neither trusted the other to make a fair exchange. That was their sole motivation for traveling together…

Oh! And they were _also_ competing to find King Arthur. The Vikings aimed to capture, the Fantasians were planning a rescue – so Arthur was also a concern. But the weaponry came first. Arthur came second. Nobody wanted to share toys, and everybody wanted to tag King Arthur.

Things looked dismal. Productive, but dismal. True, they were making good headway to Avalon, but Tooth and Crysta (who were getting along famously) wished the war would end so they wouldn't have to babysit.

"Non-avians." grumbled Tooth.

"Land dwellers." Crysta muttered.

Together, they scrutinized the humans like poorly brushed teeth. Then, with an irritable flick, Tooth and Crysta unruffled their wings and continued to Avalon.

The journey was not long, and it was certainly faster than their previous attempts. Prior to Ariel's surrender, both companies had been searching blindly for Avalon, giving credence to the phrase ' _all those who wander are DEFINITELY lost._ '

However, after Ariel's surrender, they did exactly what Ariel said: they trailed Captain Hook. And it worked. _The Jolly Roger_ led them straight to Avalon.

"Right." Bunny thumped a snowbank. The earth emptied into a rabbit hole. "I'm heading back to the Warren. We'll have North open his snowglobe to Avalon. Once the portal opens, we'll bring Fantasia's army through. In the meantime – "

Bunny hopped through his hole. "Find King Arthur. Be quick mates."

"You too!" Tooth called. "Bunny go fast!"

Bunny laughed as his hole magically refilled, and a pink flower blossomed in its place. The earth rumbled as he raced to the Warren, in answer to Tooth's plea. _Bunny go fast? Please. You don't want to race a six foot rabbit, mate._

"Okay troops head out!" Flynn waved his frying pan at Avalon. "Game on! Quietly and quickly, so we don't run into Captain Hook or – "

Astrid yanked Flynn's collar. Flynn shouted, but Astrid muffled his cry with a face full of snow. It was lucky she did – Flynn had almost alerted the enemy. Three mesmerized dragons flew overhead as Sher Khan, Scar, and Kaa slithered from the forest, sniffing for the intruders.

Their enemies were everywhere.

"This is not good Hiccup." Astrid drummed Flynn's head (still stuffed in the snow). Morbidly, she surveyed Avalon. "This is seriously not good, we have no angle of entry. They've got sentries on land and sky. We'll be seen when we attack."

"Yeah and don't forget about Drago!" Snoutlout pointed to Skullcrusher. The dragon was gliding vigilantly around the _Jolly Roger_. Drago was on the saddle, his bullhook embedded in Skullcrusher's hide. "The second Drago sees our dragons, he'll do the creepy screaming thing!"

"And hypnotize our poor babies." Fishlegs finished. He gave Meatlug a fierce, affectionate kiss. "Well not my girl! She doesn't like being hypnotized by bad Vikings. Do you girl? Do you?"

Meatlug shook her head. She returned Fishlegs' kiss. _No she did not!_

Merida and Robin rolled their eyes. So did Ruffnutt and Tuffnutt. _Sentiment. Blech._

"Hiccup." Astrid restored the original conversation. "Any ideas?"

Hiccup had several ideas, but none were perfect. There were too many lives to save, along with too many lives at risk. They had one shot at victory, so their tactics had to be _perfect_.

Hiccup fingered Ariel's trident. He examined _The Jolly Roger_ , the dragons, Pitch's nightmares, and the monsters surrounding Avalon. He calculated the odds. The solution equaled: _not good_.

Hiccup kneaded his brow. His head hurt from brainstorming, and the constant bickering was breaking his concentration. Toothless moaned, sensing Hiccup's distress. He nudged Hiccup's thigh. He pecked Hiccup's wrist.

"Thanks Bud." Hiccup knelt. Vigorously, he rubbed Toothless' flank. "I dunno about this one, but I'm pretty sure it's going to get messy. I dunno."

Hiccup shook his head, relenting to an idea. "It's almost like we'd have to bomb our way through. Run right into the enemy, kicking, screaming, and galloofing. But that's insane. No one is that crazy."

Behind Hiccup, Merida and Robin grinned.

Behind Merida and Robin, the Twins did the same.

"One for the money?" Robin and Merida began their secret handshake.

Ruffnutt and Tuffnutt clonked helmets. "Two for the show?"

"Thee to get ready?" Robin and Merida ended with a butt slap.

Ruffnutt and Tuffnutt clocked helmets again. "And four to GO!"

With that, Robin, Merida, Ruffnutt, and Tuffnutt ran right into the enemy; kicking, screaming, and galloofing. Robin and Merida shot with deadly precision, arrows hissing and bowstrings humming. Ruffnutt and Tuffnutt massacred anything in sight, Barf and Belch spewing combustible gas behind.

It was insane. It was crazy. And they loved it!

They also started The Battle to Give Fantasia.

"They are FREAKS!" Astrid raised her axe. "Total freaks!"

Hiccup tossed Ariel's trident to Astrid. He squeezed her arm before she disappeared. "That's good enough for me! Everyone! Dragons out!"

Hiccup and Toothless darted into Avalon. The flight was fast, but not fast enough. The world spun as nightmares, dragons, and villains attacked. Dark shapes, angry faces, and sharp teeth streaked the snow.

Hiccup and Toothless maneuvered on instinct, evading danger by split seconds. Frigid winds shoved them left, while trees exploded, shoving them right. Debris punctured Hiccup's armor and sliced Toothelss' scales. Hiccup didn't know where they were flying, but he urged Toothless faster – and faster – and faster!

"LOOK OUT!"

A small band sprinted into their path. Hiccup wrenched, veering Toothless vertical. They smashed into the canopy, igniting the trees as someone yelled below,

"YOUR MAJESTY! THE LADY OF THE LAKE! THAT WAY! RUN!"

" _Majesty_?" Hiccup cranked Toothless' reins. He searched wildly through the misfits, shield lifted against the swirling snow. Fleetingly he saw a girl – a man with a staff – and ogre – a blue wizard hat –

 _Blue wizard hat?_

Hiccup did a double take. _That hat. That hat! That hat was familiar, he had seen it before, and he had seen it HERE! He had seen it in Avalon, with The King! Where had…the wizards! YES the two wizards had worn pointed blue hats!_

Hiccup dove for the blue wizard hat. But then, from the corner of his eye, he saw someone running. It was a boy. A boy his age. Again Hiccup yanked, rotating Toothless midair. He only caught a glimpse, but as the boy disappeared, the wizard shouted his name.

"RUN ARTHUR! DON'T STOP! RUN!"

"Arthur." Hiccup punched his legs. Toothless responded, charging after King Arthur as a unicorn raced undertow, and Avalon burst into flames.

 **… … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … …**

Arthur ran.

Smoke melted the snow, but his heart ached with ice. Each heartbeat stung. Each breath was a mutilated attempt. Frost filled his blood, froze his muscles, and stiffened his skin. Arthur kept running, but every stumble was harder to recover.

He was freezing to death. Arthur ran harder. He had to find Elsa. Amalthea had helped, but Arthur needed an answer. Only an act of true love could warm his frozen heart. Elsa was his only hope - even if she was not his true love, perhaps only she could break her own curse. There was no other option. He had to find her. He had to try.

Suddenly, a dragon appeared. Arthur back-stepped as the beast encircled. Its jaws were bared. Liquidly, purple flames glowed inside its throat. Arthur was so startled, he didn't notice the dragon's rider until –

"Whoa, whoa!" Hiccup swiped for Arthur. "Stop! Behind you! Ledge –"

Arthur looked, saw the ledge, and tripped. He didn't even try to break the fall. Nothing could hurt as much as the ice in his heart. Not even the rocky drop. The dragon and rider tried to follow, but were intercepted by nightmares. The nightmares were attracted to the dragon fire. The distraction was a rare blessing as Arthur recuperated.

Painfully, Arthur crawled upright. He gasped. He rubbed his heart. He looked.

He'd fallen into a stone glade. The glade was gorgeous, but the stone had been split. A bottomless pit traversed the glade like a broken spine, swallowing currents from surrounding waterfalls. Arthur studied the cracked stonework. Then he looked to the waterfalls. Had the glade been whole, this might have been a lake once.

"Lake." Arthur whispered, remembering Schmendrick's campfire story and Amalthea's tale. "Lady of the Lake. Guardian of Caliburn….Excalibur."

Arthur felt the weight of his empty scabbard. He gazed over the empty glade. Then, voice lifting, Arthur called.

"Odette. _I am here_."

Nothing.

Then,

Moonlight peeked through the chaos. Nightmares, dragons, and snowflakes withdrew as The Man in the Moon poured his light into the glade. Arthur blinked as a swan suddenly sliced skyward, her wings so brilliant they reflected the moonlight.

The swan spiraled through golden beams. And as she touched the water, moonlit droplets gathered around her in a glimmering veil. The water swirled up, then glittered down, revealing Odette, The Lady of the Lake.

Excalibur lay in her embrace.

Odette looked at Arthur. She spoke one word.

"Hurry."

The magical moment sparked into real time. The battle noises returned, the pain reminded him that time was short. Arthur climbed to his knees. He crumpled, grabbed the hand offered to him for support –

 _Hand?_

Arthur looked at the hand. He followed it to the face.

Ruber smiled. "Your Majesty." he sneered, hurling Arthur into the stone.


	133. Chapter 133: All For One

**Chapter 133: All For One**

Have you ever identified a smell by its whiff? Have you ever cashed in on a lucky guess? Have you ever seen more stars from the corner of your eye?

Have you ever recognized a face by a fleeting glance?

Well, Hiccup did. Within the three seconds that he and Arthur made eye contact, Hiccup saw The King. The moment was too short for logic. Impossibilities were negated. Gut instinct took over. Arthur's thick hair, big ears, and blue eyes _automatically_ conjured The King from Hiccup's memory.

So, when he had his chance, Hiccup _did not_ capture Arthur. He was too stunned. He was also too busy denying what he had seen. But, by the time Hiccup's rational predominated, Arthur had lost his footing.

"Whoa, whoa!" Hiccup swiped for Arthur. "Look out behind you! Ledge –"

Arthur fell. _Crack. Crunch. Crunkge._ It sounded painful. Hiccup _felt_ each impact. Reminded _again_ of The King (his slight clumsiness), Hiccup and Toothless pounced after Arthur. They never reached him. Nightmares intercepted, knocking Hiccup from the saddle and Toothless from midair.

The nightmares attacked.

Hiccup relieved every terrible memory. The nightmares made his memories more horrific, but none surpassed the memory of Chief Stoick's death. Hiccup saw his father's corpse, he smelled his father's grave, he heard his father wishing for a better son: _What am I going to do with him, Gobber? You know what he's like. From the time Hiccup could crawl he's been... different._

Someone laughed. A throaty, rocky laugh.

"You had your chance, little Viking."

Drago picked through the nightmares. The nightmares stopped long enough for Drago to hypnotize Toothless, but not long enough for Hiccup to escape. Hiccup struggled, but the nightmares retaliated, leaving Toothless at Drago's command.

Toothless was fitful. He heard Hiccup and struggled against the spell. Drago lashed his bullhook. Toothless cried. Climbing Toothless' saddle, Drago addressed Hiccup over his shoulder.

"Didn't Stoick ever tell you? Men who kill without reason cannot be reasoned with." Drago flew Toothless from Hiccup. "Enjoy your nightmares, little Viking. No. You are not a Viking. You are a mistake. You are a …hiccup."

Drago departed, separating the dragon from his trainer. Hiccup called for Toothless. He begged him to come back. But even that moment turned into a painful memory, one to pile atop all the others. The nightmares fed on Hiccup's sadness. They eliminated every happy thought.

Except one. One thought that was not happy, but it was not sad.

It was bittersweet.

Hiccup heard himself. He heard his deepest secret, spoken aloud.

 _I was so afraid of becoming my dad._

 _Mostly because I thought I never could._

 _Because..._

 _How do you become someone that great, that brave, that selfless?_

"I guess…" Hiccup whispered, in reply. "You can only try."

The happy thought sparked. And _slowly_ , Hiccup climbed from the nightmares. _Slowly_ , his happy thought grew, beating the darkness with hope.

"A chief protects his own." Hiccup pushed through the nightmares, peg leg first. "And best friends are forever. I'm coming Toothless. Here I come."

Hiccup entered the enchanted glade. The battlefield was as he remembered: the stonework cracked, the waterfalls draining into a bottomless pit. Dragons and nightmares swarmed overhead, with Drago and Toothless twisting through the mire. Moonlight came down in patches. The light was dusty, Hiccup could hardly see. But he _could_ hear. And when the dragons blew fire, Hiccup _saw_ Ruber and King Arthur.

Arthur was running, Ruber directly behind him. Blood popped from Arthur's shoulder as Ruber struck, but he kept going, half stumbling and half running to a lady holding a magical sword –

"Caliburn? The lady of the lake?" Hiccup stared for a second. He looked between Odette – Arthur – and Ruber. Then he ran. Trusting his gut, Hiccup did something brave, obligatory, and extremely stupid.

As promised to Wendy, Hiccup saved King Arthur.

Sort of.

As he ran, North's snowglobe portal opened into Avalon. Fantasia's army burst through, North, Bunny, Mulan, and Shang pulling the front lines. They raided the enemy. Forces clashed, absorbing Arthur and cutting him from Odette.

"Okay Dad." Hiccup tested the durability of his prosthetic leg. Then he raced for Odette. "Time to give back Fantasia."

Nightmares, villains, and dragons blinded Hiccup. They were everywhere and they proliferated with every step. Hiccup was saved by pure Viking grit. That, and an erratic blast of blue magic…

"You! The magician!" Hiccup skid as magic fizzed from Schmendrick's palms. "You worked for The King, your name is – "

"Schmendrick!" Shrek muscled through the ranks, dragon tail over his shoulder. Hiccup looked. The dragon was unsuccessfully trying to fly away. Hiccup reassessed Shrek, very impressed. _Whoa. Cool. Ogre-achiever._

"Schmendrick, I lost the kid!" Shrek yanked the dragon's tail. "And I lost the unicorn dame! She went after Artie! I can't find either o' em! Garrett and Kayley – "

Cannon fire interrupted Shrek. _The Jolly Roger_ had fired from the sky, killing Fantasians, dragons, and villains alike. Blood, guts, and brains popped with each eruption. Crysta and Tooth darted after the _Jolly Roger_ to disarm the cannons, but the ship had almost breeched outer space. They were nearly out of reach.

Moreover, the moon was fading behind nightmares. Odette's human form was also fading. If the moon became completely covered, she and Excalibur would transform.

Hiccup swung his shield, protecting Schmendrick from gunfire. Just as he began asking for the magician's help, Schmendrick seized Hiccup and shrieked.

"The King has returned!"

Hiccup faltered. "W-what?"

"The King!" Schmendrick jumped. "The King! His Majesty of the Otherland! He's RETURNED! Remember The Prophesy!? The Prophesy we sought together – you, I, Lionel, Emrys, Amalthea, and The King! _Twinkle, twinkle little thing, Hail the Once and Future KING_! Hiccup, The King has returned! He is here! He is – "

"Schmendrick!" Shrek bellowed, whipping the dragon by it's tail. "Get the sword!"

Whack! The dragon bulldozed Schmendrick and Hiccup. Shrek pulled the dragon like a whip, propelling Schmendrick and Hiccup across the battlefield and towards Odette. Villains crumbled beneath them, allowing Schmendrick the moment he needed to grab Odette, and Hiccup to grab Excalibur.

Hiccup seized the sword. And he was surprised.

Excalibur felt odd. And not odd in the 'magically-perfect' way he would have expected from a sword of Excalibur's craft. It felt off-balanced, irregular, poorly fit. Odd.

Meant for someone else…

"Viking! You there! Viking!"

Hiccup stumbled on his prosthesis. He fell with the momentum, gliding under a Zippleback and gagging on combustive gas. Someone had called to him. And the voice was _familiar_.

It sounded like The King's. But Hiccup couldn't be certain. Schmendrick's news of The King's return _couldn't_ be real. It was impossible. A desperate daydream. A fairytale. A false hope. The King was dead.

Hiccup _wanted_ to believe Schmendrick. He did. But this was _war_. Hiccup knew he and Schmendrick weren't thinking straight – they was being giddy, irrational, foolish –

"Here!"

Hiccup felt a hand on his back. He felt another on his wrist. They were cold. Hiccup shivered, but not because of the chill. He shivered as Arthur knelt for Excalibur, and spoke with the voice of The King.

"This is mine." Arthur breathed, retrieving his magical sword. Staggering from Hiccup, Arthur rose with Excalibur dancing in his hand. "And this one is for Stoick."

Arthur flung the sword. Hiccup followed the trajectory to –

"Toothless!"

Excalibur glinted, sliced through nightmares, and struck Drago Bludvist's throat. Drago choked, groped the blade in his neck, dropped from Toothless –

-and bled to death.

 _Silently_.

Drago's hypnotic spell broke. The dragons were freed.

"Bud!" Hiccup cheered, sprinting by Arthur. "Toothless! Toothless! Okay Bud – you and me, saddle up! VIKINGS!" Hiccup summoned his rejoicing kin. The Vikings mounted their dragons immediately, waiting for Hiccup's cue – waiting on whom to attack.

Hiccup scanned the battlefield. He studied the Fantasians. He thought, he considered, he remembered…

…he felt Toothless whimper. He met his dragon eye to eye.

Then, before all Vikings, Chief Hiccup Haddock deferred to King Arthur.

"On The King's command! Ready –"

Hiccup slid Excalibur from Drago's throat. He held it to Arthur. "Ready?"

Arthur accepted his sword. The blade radiated as he called to the Fantasians, Otherlanders, and Vikings: all his people.

" _None_ of us are stronger than _all_ of us! All for one and one for all! United we stand, divided we fall! Everyone! With me!" Arthur led the attack. "GO!"

The Fantasians and Otherlanders followed. They fought united against a common enemy, every life dependent upon each other's trust.

The tides turned. The battle seemed won.

Then Pitch Black appeared, the Black Cauldron to his left and Ruber to his right.

Peter Pan and Jack Frost held Elsa and Wendy over the Black Cauldron.

Ruber held Amalthea, a knife on her throat.

"Drop the sword." Ruber ordered. "And _bow_."

Arthur did not hesitate. He threw Excalibur. The magical blade clattered. The armies withheld.

And Arthur knelt before Ruber, his eyes on Amalthea.

"Lovely." Pitch combed Wendy's hair. He adjusted her hair ribbon. Then, producing Wendy's magical needle and thread, he grinned at _The Jolly Roger,_ twinkling below the Wishing Star.

"Let's get started."


	134. Chapter 134: One For All

**Chapter 134: One For All**

Arthur surrendered.

Kayley and Garrett did not. Neither did Astrid, Flynn, Merida, or Robin. Ruffnutt, Tuffnutt, Snoutlout, and Fishlegs also refused. Devon and Cornwall were so mad, they _actually_ started working together! _Please. Drop the sword and bow? Lame Ruber. Lame. Fear not Arthur! Save your lady! We will NOT serve a false king!_

They continued fighting, but not for long. Pitch unleashed his nightmares; the Fantasians and Otherlanders were unglued. Bunny, North, and Schmendrick resisted with their magic, but came no closer to Arthur than an angry cry. The battlefield turned into a nightmare. Even Hiccup, who had discovered the secret of happy thoughts, was overcome.

"Alone at last." Pitch coiled Wendy's thread between his fingers. He glanced irritably as Elsa struggled against Peter. "My dear snow queen. What is all the fuss?"

"Arthur!" Elsa reached over the Black Cauldron. She was crying, but her snowflake tears twinkled blue with happiness. "Arthur you're alive! I thought – they told me you were gone! They said my magic froze your heart! But you're alive! Arthur you're – "

Pitch flicked Jack's staff. Peter reacted, throwing Elsa against the Black Cauldron. He flung her repeatedly, indifferent to anyone but Pitch. Arthur rose, but immediately stopped as Ruber drew Amalthea's blood. Jack shouted. He moved for Elsa as Wendy implored Peter, but Pitch intercepted before Jack could release.

"Everyone freeze." Pitch conjured his nightmares, one arm extended warningly towards Jack. As Jack submitted, Pitch rotated carefully to Arthur. "Ha – _everyone freeze_. Pun intended. What's the matter Your Majesty, are we still a little chilly? My…was the lady's kiss not enough to warm your frozen heart?"

Rubber giggled into Amalthea's ear. He stooped for Excalibur.

"Oh. _Caliburn_." Ruber absolutely quivered. Giddily, he admired the magical sword. "Caliburn! Mine forever! Ohhhh…let's test the blade…" Ruber pressed Excalibur under Amalthea's breast. "Shall we?"

"Stop." Arthur remained knelt but lifted a hand, as if to pull Excalibur away. "Stop now. You want me, and you have me. So…don't hurt her. Just…just let her go."

Ruber snickered. "Say _please_."

Arthur was livid. But he complied. " _Please_."

"Say it _nicely_."

" _Please_."

"Well that didn't sound very nice. Tut, tut, tut." Ruber twirled Excalibur. Playfully, he swicked Arthur's cheek. Arthur flinched. Ruber laughed. "Say you're sorry."

"Arthur." Amalthea begged. "Arthur don't – "

"I'm _sorry_." said Arthur, blood sliding across his jawline. "Let her go."

"Still a naughty, naughty tone!"

"Let her _go_."

"But you haven't asked nicely!"

"Let her go!"

"But whyyyyy? Your heart is frozen." Ruber bit Amalthea's lip. "She couldn't kiss it all better. True love must be shorter than forever – "

Arthur stood. "You _filth_ don't touch her – "

Ruber lurched one step back. He swiped at Arthur before shoving Excalibur through Amalthea's heart.

Even the nightmares shivered as Arthur screamed.

Pitch smiled. He closed his eyes, absorbing Arthur's pain. And, just to be wicked, Pitch bade his nightmares to cover the moon, transforming Amalthea into a unicorn as she died.

"Now." Pitch handed Wendy her needle and thread. With Jack, he pressed her against the Black Cauldron. Peter did the same with Elsa, joining the girls' hands around the cold, metal base.

Pitch glanced back. Ruber was hysteric with laughter, Excalibur on Arthur's throat. Amalthea had collapsed, her white body red, her heart bleeding at Arthur's feet.

Pitch returned to the Black Cauldron. He spoke.

"Elsa – freeze the Cauldron, or Arthur dies. Wendy – work your shadow magic. Bring the Black Cauldron to life, or I will kill Peter Pan. And Jack – "

Pitch smiled. "Your task is simple. I will give you Elsa, if you don't let Wendy go. So… just be your _belittled_ , _selfish, invisible_ self."

They were trapped. They obeyed.

Pitch beamed as Fantasia was given to him by the hopeless, love stricken fools.

 **… … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … …**

Jim stood at the edge of the plank. Stardust frosted his nose. Pirates barked behind him. The Wishing Star glittered directly ahead.

Second Star to the Right, and Second Star to the Wrong. The two halves shimmered between a velvety space canvass. The space canvass was frayed. Celestial threads drooped from the fabric, almost too frail to hold the star in place.

Jim wondered: _could_ the Wishing Star be fixed? It's celestial environment was so fragile. If it was tampered with, the pieces might actually _break_. If the Wishing Star broke, it would turn into a shooting star. It would create a cosmic burst. And without his graphene suit to protect him…

…he would die.

"Very well, Lord Hawkins." Captain Hook beckoned. Ariel was dragged aloft. The pirates placed her in Jim's peripheral vision, just where he could see them stroking and fondling, but couldn't read her lips.

"You have your audience, per request." Captain Hook pointed. "Fix the star."

Jim stared into the dazzling galaxy. And for some reason, he remembered something Sinbad had said…

 _I've been on the run my entire life, keeping the monsters away from you and Mom._

Jim tried to look at Ariel. Captain Hook shoved the plank, averting his gaze. But as he faltered, Jim heard something else. He heard a second echo of the past, this time by Long John Silver.

" _You give up a few things, chasing a dream_."

The adage was so clear, Jim thought (for a delirious second) that the cyborg had actually spoken. Right in his ear.

But that was impossible.

Jim stepped off the plank. Thinking of Ariel, he began fixing The Wishing Star, just as Wendy and Elsa fixed the Black Cauldron.


	135. Chapter 135: United We Stand

**Chapter 135: United We Stand**

Nightmares bulged beneath Crysta and Tooth. The Man in the Moon grimaced as the nightmares swarmed him like flies, forming a vortex between the Black Cauldron and Wishing Star. The vortex thickened as Wendy salvaged the Black Cauldron and Jim adjoined the Wishing Star's right and left halves.

What happened then?

Science.

The black magic of science, to be exact. Science is a misunderstood field, the 'unpopular' kid in the class – but the discipline is _rank_ with magic. Consider, for example, nuclear fusion: nuclear fusion is so magical, it occurs only on the sun. But then, consider the atom bomb. It may be black magic. It may be white. But take it from me – no wizard is that powerful.

Science is magic.

Jim Hawkins knew this. The Outerworld _= science + magic_ , as much as his personality _= logic + emotion_. Jim (similarly to Wendy) understood both worlds. Therefore, as Jim fixed the Wishing Star and Wendy fixed the Black Cauldron, both sensed the interplay of science and magic.

And they were afraid.

But back to the science. As Jim explained to King Arthur at the Round Table, the Wishing Star and Black Cauldron represented two ends of a portal. Those that entered the Black Cauldron would get trapped inside the Wishing Star via the portal.

Think of the Black Cauldron and Wishing Star as magnets. All living things have a magnetic field. It's true. Positively charged fields are attracted to negatively charged fields. It's the simple rule of _opposites attract_ (just ask Peter and Wendy). The interaction of these opposing magnetic forces is called "electromagnetism."

HERE IS THE MAGICAL PART:

There is such a thing called "electro _MAGIC_ tism."

Electro _magic_ tism, is the attraction between objects of differently charged 'magic.' It's sort of like a magnet. It's sort of like electromagnetism. Essentially, electrons, protons, and neutrons have magical components. These magical components emit a 'magical charge.' And (in the case of the Wishing Star and Black Cauldron), when the magical charges attract, they can form an energy field. They can form a portal.

Pretty damn cool.

Now, in the Battle to _Take_ Fantasia, the Wishing Star split. The portal broke. The energy fields died. The electro _magic_ tism system failed, and demons were released into Fantasia. But, in the Battle to _Give_ Fantasia, the Wishing Star and Black Cauldron were healing. Their electro _magic_ tism fields were reforming. The portal was waking up.

All Pitch needed was a few seconds more.

"Tooth!" Crysta dodged nightmares. She flew higher as demons bubbled from the Black Cauldron. "Tooth we have to do something! These nightmares are going to – Tooth?"

Crysta panicked. She couldn't find Tooth. All she could see were nightmares. Darkness. Shadows.

"Tooth!" Crysta yelled. "Tooth! Where are you?"

"Heads up!" someone answered, but it was not Tooth.

Crysta revolved. "Pips!"

Pips smiled. He smiled so cheerfully, several nightmares extinguished. "How you doin' my one bodacious babe?"

"Pips!" Crysta was overjoyed. Then she was concerned. "What happened to your wings? Pips your wings are bruised!"

"Long story." said Pips. Panting to stay afloat (after all, his wings _were_ bruised), Pips hefted a rope. The rope was long. There was something hanging off the end, but Crysta couldn't see what it was (the rope disappeared into the nightmares).

"Pips?" Crysta assisted with the line. She dipped. Whatever Pips was trolling was heavy. "Pips what are you carrying –"

"HEY!" someone tugged the end of the rope. "THIS AIN'T THE GALLOWS! QUIT WITH THE HANGING AND FLY! MAKE LIKE MY TWO FAVORITE WORDS: _HURRY UP_!"

Apparently whatever Pips was trolling was also alive.

"Geezum." Pips flew upwards. "This is a lousy trade."

"Trade?" Crysta shouldered the rope. She followed Pips. "Trade for what?"

"Freedom, life, etcetera. Whoa –" Pips grimaced as nightmares crossed their path. He shielded Crysta before continuing. "The dude on the end of the rope is a pirate. Goes by the name Sinbad. _Mr. Bad_ shot me and Wendy with a cannon ball. He busted my wings, locked me in cell, _then_ asked me to fly him to the _Jolly Roger_ in exchange for freedom."

"Jolly what?"

" _Jolly Roger._ It's an undead flying pirate ship."

"Wow."

"Yeah."

"And you're doing this to help somebody?"

"Yerp."

"Pips you're so…" Crysta was suddenly shy. Shyness was unnatural for Ferngullians. So it showed. "Pips. You're so… _heroic_."

Pips perked. "Pretty cool huh?"

"Pretty. Surprising, but pretty cool."

"It ain't no-thang! You can reward me later with a hot date."

"Oh Pips." Crysta glowed. They shared a magic smile. Then Crysta returned to the quest. "Where is the undead flying pirate ship?"

"Uh – " Pips swerved. The nightmares were condensing. Pips scanned the skies, one arm around Crysta, the other holding the rope. "It's gotta be somewhere in this mess. If we could just get through these shadow things."

"They're nightmares." Tooth appeared below them, mini-fairies hot on her feathered tail. Foregoing further explanation, Tooth disintegrated several nightmares with a mouth mirror and toothbrush.

"Damn." Pips praised, "Fairy kicks ass."

Tooth slashed her dental instruments. "Wait until I pull out the sickle probe. Plaque was never removed so fast! Hurry, both of you! The sky will only stay clear for a second! More nightmares are coming! Follow me, I'll pave the way!"

Pips and Crysta buzzed after Tooth. They hauled Sinbad through the nightmares, supporting each other against unhappy thoughts. The journey was short, but torturous. Every passing nightmare stung. The sky jerked. The air was caustic. And when they reached the _Jolly Roger_ –

"I've got to sneak in without Hook seeing me." Sinbad probed the ship's underbelly. Seizing an anchor cable, he swung from the Ferngullians. "Sarah's either in the brig or tied to the mast. Jim might be anywhere too. If I could grab Sarah, Jim, Scrimpy and toss them over to you three flying things…that would be freaking perfect! Just gotta bust through the bottom…damn it!"

Sinbad punched the hull. "I'll never break through! Holy mother of freaking crows! Is it UNREASONABLE to ask for a _cybernetic plasma flintlock pistol_ when you need one?!"

Suddenly, a cybernetic plasma flintlock pistol appeared. It blew a hole through the _Jolly Roger's_ hull.

BOOOOM.

Sinbad blinked. He almost fell from the sky. But he didn't. Instead, he saluted the mysterious owner of the cybernetic plasma flintlock pistol. The stranger was masked by smoke, but Sinbad was unperturbed. He decided to be grateful instead.

"Thanks mate."

The stranger tipped his tricorn with the cybernetic plasma flintlock pistol. "Pleasure." he replied as Sinbad scurried into the _Jolly Roger_. "Tis a pleasure all mine."

Sinbad bore through the ship. He killed more villains in the first three steps than in his entire piracy career combined. And when he stormed the brig, Sinbad's heart leapt from his mouth.

"Sarah!"

"Sinbad!" Sarah pointed through her bars. "Behind you!"

Sinbad ignored the warning. He ran to Sarah, grabbed her neck, and kissed her hard. When he was through, Sinbad spun, stabbed the villain-in-question, freed Sarah from her prison, and kissed her again.

"Kissing on the run." Sinbad offered cupped arms. "Want me to carry you off in style?"

Sarah yanked him into the corridor. "I hate you, Bandit."

Sinbad held her hand. "I love you too, Princess. Okay where are the kids?"

They dodged the Queen of Hearts. Sarah increased pace. "Jim's up deck. Something about the Wishing Star."

Sinbad heard commotion behind. He glanced. Pirates were chasing. Not good.

"What about Scimpy?" he asked.

"Who?"

"Mary's kid."

"Wendy – oh no, I don't know. But Ariel – "

"Sarah look out!"

They were overrun. Villains burst from every crevasse, driving Sarah and Sinbad off course. Sinbad turned to fight but Sarah rerouted their path. Shouting something about "Ariel, Jim, and The Star" she raced to the upper deck. Sinbad quickly perceived why.

Jim was in trouble. He was clamping together two halves of a broken star, and the endeavor was clearly extortion. The pirates hovered threateningly over the bow. Captain Hook held a beautiful redhead at gunpoint. Sinbad recognized the tactic. It was classic piracy: _do this or we'll shoot the girl._

Jim's task looked _unreal_. The Wishing Star illuminated his body. Energy that was white, then glassy, then rainbow, throbbed between his hands. As Jim joined the pieces, the Wishing Star pulsed with a cosmic heartbeat. It looked like something out of a storybook.

For a moment, it was beautiful. Even the pirates were awed. But then, the Wishing Star merged with the Black Cauldron. The electro _magic_ portal crackled. Demons shrieked. Nightmares swelled. Ariel strained against her captors, trying to reach Jim –

"Enough." Captain Hook aimed his pistol at Ariel and pulled. "Is enough."

The pistol detonated. Jim heard the shot.

He screamed as Sinbad jumped before Ariel, taking the bullet to the chest.

 **… … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … …** **… … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … …**

Jack tried to resist. Reaching over Wendy, he grabbed Elsa's wrist.

Wendy's shadow magic hissed from the Black Cauldron. Darkness swarmed him. But then the darkness unfolded into a memory. Jack's worst memory.

But a memory nonetheless:

 _Jack saw himself. Brown eyes, not blue. Brown hair, not white. He was slowly reaching for a little girl. She was wearing ice-skates. Jack was smiling, but forcing himself not to cry as she teetered on broken ice._

 _"_ _Jack." the little girl whimpered. "I'm scared."_

 _Jack heard himself, thinking fast. "I know, I know...but you're gonna be alright. You're not gonna fall in. We're gonna have a little fun instead."_

 _She looked afraid. Afraid of him. "No we're not!"_

 _Jack inched forward. He kept his voice light. "Would I trick you?"_

 _"_ _Yes!" she sobbed, fighting tears. "You always play tricks!"_

 _That broke his heart._

 _"_ _Well…" Jack extended a hand. "Not this time. I promise. I promise, you're gonna be...you're gonna be fine. You…"_

 _Jack saw a familiar, gnarled staff. He fished it from the ice. Staff raised, he smiled at his little sister._

 _"_ _You have to believe in me."_

 _His little sister smiled, despite her fear. She laughed as he tiptoed across the broken ice, pretending to wobble like a game of hopscotch. She trusted him to hook her with the staff. She gasped as he flung her to safety._

 _She screamed his name as he plunged into the cold, dark water._

 _"_ _Jack!"_

 _She disappeared into empty memories. She remained hidden when The Man in the Moon resurrected him, as Jack Frost._

Jack collapsed. "My sister…I had a sister... I saved her… that's why the Man in the Moon chose me. I'm…" Jack touched his chest. "A _guardian_."

At that moment, the Wishing Star and Black Cauldron reunited.

Pitch seized Wendy as Jack fell.

"Ruber, gather the unicorn. Escort _His Majesty_ here." Pitch pressed Wendy against the cauldron. Her shadow magic bled into Elsa's ice. "It's almost time to throw someone inside. King Arthur and his queen can go first. Burry them alive. Well…"

Pitch smoothed Elsa's braid. "That is, if His Majesty's heart doesn't freeze first. Goodness, what _is_ the cure for a frozen heart? The warmest emotion? Love? Pathetic. Go on Elsa, save King Arthur. Make a vow of everlasting love."

Elsa stammered something that was lost to tears.

"Nothing? Nothing to give?" Pitch laughed. "But I suppose that makes sense. After all…Mr. Pan _is_ present. Love is _not_ the air. Don't you agree, Miss Darling?"

Wendy's shadow magic _poured_ into the cauldron. With his comment, Pitch released Wendy's darkest memories and unhappiest thoughts. Her shadows, combined with Elsa's ice, froze the world. No one could breath. No one could move. Wendy felt her soul shrinking into the Black Cauldron, falling into Hell.

Suddenly,

"Wendy?"

Wendy looked up. Peter was gazing at her, unencumbered by his shadow and uncontrolled by Pitch. He looked odd – like he had just woken from a bad dream and finally found the dawn.

"Wendy." Peter said, "I love you."

They say you need darkness to find the light. They say you need sadness to appreciate the joy. They say you need to live a nightmare as you follow your dreams.

Well, it must be true, and I will tell you why. Because, when Peter Pan said _I love you_ , Wendy's unhappy thoughts were bested by the happiest thought of all. She smiled, brighter than sunshine. The shadows sparkled to golden dreamsand in her hands.

And from the nightmares, The Sandman spiraled back to life.

 **… … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … …** **… … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … …**

Sinbad crumpled into Ariel.

But he did not die.

Upon impact, the bullet exploded. However, the bullet did _not_ penetrate his heart. Instead, it shattered the enchanted seashell necklace, still strung around Sinbad's neck. Pastel light ruptured from the shell and shimmered into Ariel's throat.

Ariel staggered. She swallowed. Gasping, she clutched her neck.

And then, she screamed:

"JIM! ARTHUR NEEDS TO MAKE A WISH! BREAK THE STAR!"

Jim didn't hesitate. With an almighty wrench, he rattled The Wishing Star.

The star fell from the sky.

And everything exploded.


	136. Chapter 136: Divided We Fall

**Chapter 136: Divided We Fall**

Everything exploded.

No one person could recall what happened. There were too many players and too many parts. The repercussions of the guardians' actions avalanched within the blink of an eye. The aftermath was violent, fast, and unstoppable.

But it all started when Jim broke the Wishing Star and Wendy's happy thought resurrected Sandman from the nightmares within the Black Cauldron.

"No…impossible." Pitch gaped between Peter and Sandman. Dreamsand sprinkled across his nose as Peter released Elsa, and Sandman wagged a finger. _Bad Pitch. Bad. North is going to put you on the Naughty List._

"No. No! How?! How is this…" Pitch looked at Wendy. She was smiling speechlessly at Peter, dreamsand streaming from her hands. Every nightmare she touched twinkled into a dream. Similarly, shadows poofed into golden clouds and the Black Cauldron cracked like a golden egg.

Nightmares and shadows scattered, wild with confusion. But none were confused as Wendy. Her shadow working powers had reversed! But how?

Sandman knew how. He _could_ have explained, but he preferred to watch Wendy instead – she looked like a child bewildered by Christmas magic. Sandman sighed. Sometimes it was nice to be happy, and not need a reason why.

But the explanation _was_ simple: dreams and nightmares are almost identical. Have you ever noticed how quickly dreams become nightmares, and a nightmares become dreams? The only difference between them is whether the dream is "good" or "bad" – "happy" or "sad."

Well, _Peter's_ happy thought ("I love you") _saved_ him from the nightmare.

But, _Wendy's_ happy thought ("He loves me") _transformed_ her nightmares into dreams. After all, shadow workers use both dark and light. And at that moment, Wendy was _glowing_. So her powers, closely tied to nightmares, crossed the indiscriminate boundary to dreams.

Sandman smiled at Wendy. He winked. Then, a dreamsand boxing-mitt forming around his fist, Sandman clobbered Pitch with his left hook. Simultaneously, Jack scooped a handful of Elsa's snow. As Pitch stumbled, he hurled a snowball.

Boof! The snowball smashed Pitch's face. Jack whooped. Scampering around Wendy, he packed two, three, four more snowballs. But just as he aimed, _someone else_ flung a snowball at Pitch.

It was Elsa. _Just_ like the night she and Jack had thrown snowballs in King Arthur's castle, Elsa attacked her fears. She threw a snowball that leveled Pitch to his knees. She threw a snowball that knocked Jack's staff from his hand. Then she threw a final snowball –

"Hey!" Jack staggered. Elsa's snowball had hit him! Right on the hoodie! Smack dab over his heart! Jack was flummoxed! "Wait a minute – that was a _great_ shot. She…she can't…can she _see me_?"

Jack looked at Elsa.

Elsa smiled. "Let it go." she answered, tossing Jack his staff. "Mr. Frost."

"No!" Pitch roared. Gathering his nightmares, he summoned Peter's shadow. But Wendy met Pitch with a single strike, shielding Peter (and Shadow) from his nightmares.

"You can't get rid of me!" Pitch fired nightmares at Wendy. "Not forever! There will always be fear! Wherever there is shadow magic, there will _always_ be fear! My nightmares will find you, shadow worker! My nightmares - "

"I'm not afraid." Wendy grit her teeth, forcing Pitch from her mind. Needle raised, she motioned to the nightmares. "So these can't be my nightmares. And if they're not my nightmares...they must be _yours_."

Wendy closed her eyes. She focused, imagined Peter's vow of love, and thrust the nightmares at Pitch.

Pitch...was terrified.

"Goodnight." Wendy whispered. "Sleep tight."

Above the sky was whirling. The Wishing Star was screaming down. Sinbad had jumped from the _Jolly Roger_ , Ariel and Sarah beside him. Tooth, Pips, and Crysta were racing to break their fall. Magical energy warped from the Black Cauldron as the portal caved beneath the Wishing Star. The world spun like a kaleidoscope. Peter tumbled into the wind. Jack ripped Wendy and Elsa into the snow. Nightmares sucked into the cauldron. Pitch struggled to escape, but the blackness pulled both he and Ruber into the cauldron's black, bottomless mouth –

Pitch vanished. But Ruber remained. He grabbed King Arthur and climbed, using the boy as an anchor. Hysterically, he cast Arthur at the Black Cauldron.

But Amalthea, still a unicorn, twisted upright. With her last breath, she stabbed Ruber with her horn. The horn cracked from Amalthea's forehead. It embedded in Ruber's heart.

Amalthea fell.

And as his lady died, Arthur seized Excalibur and destroyed the Black Cauldron. The magical portal popped and rebounded. The Wishing Star shattered.

The magical eruption left nothing.

There were no nightmares. There were no shadows. There were no pirates, villains, or Boogiemen.

There was only a black hole. A black hole where the Wishing Star use to be. A black hole ripped through the fabric of outer space, laced with leftover celestial thread, and leading into the next galaxy.

The Man in the Moon exhaled. He swelled over the survivors and cried over the casualties. But there was one face he did not see.

Ariel uncurled from Sinbad. She trailed the line of star dust left by the Wishing Star when it fell.

"Jim?"


	137. Chapter 137: Vow of Everlasting Love

**Chapter 137: Vow of Everlasting Love**

"Jim!" Ariel stumbled from Sarah and Sinbad. Pushing past Wendy, she screamed into outerspace. " _Jim_!"

Nothing. Ariel screamed again, louder and longer. Nothing. She screamed _again_ , snarling at the sky, _demanding_ a response. She was answered, but only by her echo. Then there was nothing. Nothing but a big black hole marking where the Wishing Star fell from the sky.

Jim had _literally_ rattled the stars. He had turned the Wishing Star into a _shooting_ star. And in doing so, he also tore the space fabric, forming a black hole. The black hole opened into the neighboring galaxy – _Neverland_ , Jim had called it.

From below, Neverland's stars resembled a salty trail stretching lightyears away. The Fantasians and Otherlanders were astounded. They gazed at the adjacent galaxy. Suddenly, their little planet seemed very, very small.

The Outerworld had opened. And Jim Hawkins was not there to guard the entrance.

"Shooting star..." Wendy searched the night sky. Star dust sprinkled her nose. Cognizant that Peter was _also_ missing, she suddenly remembered Jim's description of shooting stars.

Specifically, the _danger_ of shooting stars.

 _"Ever make a wish on a shooting star?" Jim had asked her on Pirates Point._

 _"Certainly."_ _Wendy had replied._

 _"Well." Jim had explained in his secretly excited way._ " _All shooting stars travel at supersonic speeds - fake or not. They move so fast, everything burns in their path. Everything except graphene. So if I have to stop a shooting star from burning into Fantasia, the graphene protects me_."

"Jim..." Wendy's stomach knotted. Jim hadn't been wearing his graphene suit. Mouth covered, she whispered her original response. "That doesn't sound quite safe."

She could almost hear his reply.

 _It's not._

"No, no, _no_." Wendy shook her head. Again she searched the stars, frantic for a sign, something, _anything_ to reassure her that Jim had survived. But at that moment, Ariel screamed. Her scream broke into sobs. And Wendy knew that Jim was gone.

Ariel was beyond devastation.

She had always prayed to find her voice. A lifetime of speaking, laughing, and singing would have been wonderful, but Ariel was not greedy. She only wanted her voice for one sentence, six little words: _James Pleiades Hawkins, I love you._

Well, make that eight little words. Ariel also wanted to say, _I do_.

Never, _ever_ , did she imagine that her first words to Jim would be the last. Never, _ever_ , did she imagine that her voice would become raw screaming his name.

The two armies, those of Fantasia and the Otherland, were grim. Few members, those closest to Ariel, were even empathetic. But none, not even Admiral Triton, offered comfort. War kills. War is unkind. War is cruelest to those that bury the dead. Ariel was too young, too sprightly, too hopeful to understand.

As was Wendy.

Wendy strode through the stardust. She touched Ariel's shoulder. She wept silently as Ariel shuddered beneath her hand.

Avalon shared their silence. The stardust faded. Ariel watched the glimmering grains fade as three figures trudged from the darkness –

Wendy felt Ariel tense. She looked down, but Ariel was already up. Her stumbles turned into sprints and her despair turned into _outrageous_ , _desperate_ , _happy_ hope – !

"Jim!" Ariel shouted as Jim limped though the stardust, supported between Peter Pan and Long John Silver. Jim lifted his head. He saw Ariel. Too weak to answer, but mouthing her name, Jim staggered from his saviors and fell into Ariel's arms.

"Jim!" Ariel laughed, cradling his broken body. "James Pleaides Hawkins I love you! Oh gosh I love you! I love you!"

Jim smiled. It was the best he could do. The Wishing Star had twisted him like scrap metal. His vision was muddy. Flesh hung from broken bones. Both shoulders felt loose in their sockets. But Jim sighed into Ariel, content.

"Hey babe." he breathed, hand in her hair.

Ariel laughed. She beamed at Peter and Silver (both who had saved Jim from the shooting star), before rubbing stardust from Jim's nose. "Hiya sailor."

Jim grinned, faintly. "Your voice..."

"Got it back."

"Pretty."

"Thanks."

Jim swallowed. Painfully readjusting, he blinked at the cyborg. "Silver?"

Silver twinkled. "Jimbo."

Jim tried to answer, but coughed blood. Both Ariel and Silver bent, but Jim stayed their concern. Wiping with a closed fist (something shimmered secretively inside), he finished. "Old scalawag. Where the hell have you been?"

Silver knelt. "Hunting for heaven. Running from hell. Waiting for you te rattle the stars." Silver slid back his tricorn. Morph danced across the brim. "And tis a good thing Morphy got me when he did! Or else..."

He clipped Jim's chin. "I might have missed it."

Jim glowed like a solar flare. His joy was contagious, and Ariel caught it. She laughed. Silver joined.

Sinbad did not.

Neither did Peter. Peter gazed stonily across Avalon, slowly perceiving his part in the evil schemes (however unwittingly). Although Peter had overcome his shadow with a happy thought, he _still_ felt spellbound. The nightmare wasn't over. The nightmare was real: _The One and Only Pan wasn't invincible. He had been enslaved to his own shadow. He had helped Pitch Black._

Peter sunk downward. He landed on his shadow. The shadow wriggled free and swept around Silver, Ariel and Jim. It darted through the stardust, and swirled elatedly around Wendy.

Peter observed their reunion cautiously, uncertain if he should approach. He was embarrassed – he and Wendy had traded roles. Wendy had been the hero. _He_ had been the damsel. He - Peter Pan! Wendy should depend on _him_ to be the knight in shining armor! Not the other way around!

And, there was the matter of those three little words.

 _I love you._

Peter pressed his lips. _Never_ had anything tasted so... _lovely_. Those three little words, put together, had flavor! Peter swore the sentence was sugar, spice, and everything nice. But waiting for Wendy's answer _devastated_ him. Peter felt... well...he felt soulless. Nameless. Worthless. Lost.

It was unbearable. Torn with pride, Peter stepped backwards into the air.

But Wendy, in her sorcerous way, sensed his panic. She turned.

They made eye contact. Neither moved. Neither dared. Finally, Wendy opened her mouth –

"Where's Arthur?" Jim asked, curling from Ariel and Silver. "Where is the king?"

The Fantasians and Otherlanders searched. The dragons provided firelight. The Fantasians batted the stardust. The Otherlanders combed the war-stricken ground. And together they found their king.

Arthur was dying. Elsa's curse gorged him, and there was no turning back. His body was icy. His breath was frost. Every _agonizing_ heartbeat measured his life away. Arthur had crumpled, just as Excalibur sliced through the Black Cauldron and into the ground.

Arthur remained hung from Excalibur, one hand on the hilt – like a martyr on his holy cross. His shoulders shook. He was crying. But not for himself.

"...allie..."

Arthur released Excalibur. He collapsed. Body stiff and disfigured, he tried to reach Amalthea. But he was too weak. The Fantasians urged Elsa to save him. They sobbed in horror when she could not.

Again, Jim spoke.

"Arthur." he called. The effort was painful. Jim mopped more blood. "Arthur, Ariel was right. The Wishing Star is _yours_. It gave you two wishes before. And now...now that the Wishing Star has broken... it's a _shooting_ _star_. You can wish upon a shooting star. Arthur... you get one last wish."

Hope stormed the gathering, Fantasians especially. They begged Arthur to end Elsa's curse, to wish for his life.

But Arthur did not. Unmoved by the cries and ignoring their demands, he struggled for Amalthea.

The Fantasians protested. The Otherlanders were grim.

But Hiccup strode through the ranks. He stood over Arthur.

Then he knelt. Slinging Arthur's arm over his shoulder, Hiccup brought the king to his lady.

"Your Majesty." He said, lowering Arthur beside Amalthea. "I'm...I'm sorry."

Arthur admired Amalthea. She was beautiful, even in death. Tenderly, he brushed her hair. The moonlight gave Amalthea human form, but a scar, bright as a starburst, marked her forehead where the unicorn horn had rest. The scar had formed when Amalthea stabbed Ruber, saving Arthur's life. It was a tribute to her bravery, but a sign of sacrifice that Amalthea would never boast.

She had passed. Even immortals, when cut through the heart, die.

Arthur wept. He didn't care if his people grimaced, or if the Otherlanders disapproved of his tears.

His heart was broken. If it froze with ice, so be it.

He didn't care.

"Is...is it wrong?" Arthur smoothed Amalthea's cheek. Her hair was spread like spider silk. He smoothed that too, repeating the question. "Is it wrong that I hardly knew your name...and I couldn't even pronounce it right...but I can't...and I don't want...to grow old...without you. Allie...I'd put the sword back in the stone...if you'd just... _please_..."

Arthur touched his forehead to hers. " _Please_. _Wake up_. I _wish_ you'd...live. I wish you'd live... grow old... be happy... for longer than forever."

Do you know what happened then?

Magic.

"Twinkle, twinkle Wishing Star..." Odette clasped Schmendrick's hand. She smiled as Amalthea opened her eyes, and Arthur's heart unfroze. She completed the stanza as they astoundingly and joyfully embraced.

"Twinkle, twinkle Wishing Star,

You tumbled down once a-jarred.

What can warm a frozen heart?

When two lives are torn apart?

Twinkle, twinkle star above,

Tis a vow of everlasting love."

Schmendrick dissected the riddle. And he solved it. After all, Schmendrick _was_ a magician (even if he was the world's worst).

"King Arthur made a wish. He made a wish on a shooting star - the Wishing Star. But, instead of wishing to heal himself, he saved Amalthea. _That wish_ , was a vow of everlasting love. And since _love_ is the warmest emotion...Arthur unfroze his heart...and broke his curse."

Odette nodded, very impressed.

Schmendrick balked at his own ingeniousness.

"Oh whoa!" he proclaimed, slapping his head in a befuddled, happy sort of way. "Oh whoa the powers of whoa! Magic do as you will!"

POOF.

"Schmendrick!" Merlin (Master Emrys) marched through a magical whirlwind. Swatting blue smoke, he growled. "Schmendrick you are in _trouble_! But first –"

Merlin rounded on Arthur and Amalthea. "When is the wedding!?"

"Wedding." Ariel's smile melted. Clutching Jim, she remembered. "But Arthur said the guardians are only allowed to stay in Fantasia...until he is married."

Wendy heard Ariel. Shifting through the celebrating Vikings, she looked for Peter.

Peter was gone. All that remained was his shadow.

 **... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... .. ... ... ... .. ...**

 **sultal's note: song credits, "Where is Hiccup" from How To Train Your Dragon soundtrack**


	138. Chapter 138: Talk TOO Much

**Chapter 138: Talk TOO Much**

Jim thought _Wendy_ could talk.

But _Ariel_...

Ariel had Wendy beat.

"Oh my gosh Arthur and Amalthea are like the cutest couple ever! Except, you know, besides _us_! _But_ , I betcha if we were still in high school, Arthur and Amalthea would win the cutest couple award. They've just got that _vibe_. What stereotype do you think we would be? Probably sexiest couple or geekiest couple – you know, because of the Star Wars thing. Hey! Halloween is tomorrow, isn't it?! You and I could pull off an incredible Anakin and Padme, or Han and Leia. OR you could go as Obi-Wan Kenobi and I could go as R2-D2 or something – "

Adorable. Ariel was so freaking excited to have her voice back.

Jim passively absorbed. He listened to Ariel as one might listen to music, enjoying the musicality of her dialogue versus each individual word. It was wonderful. Ariel's voice warmed his ears – just like earmuffs.

Moreover, Ariel hadn't left his side since the Battle to Give Fantasia.

Oh yeah. Life was good. Not perfect, but definitely good and scheduled to improve (hopefully).

Jim still had problems to resolve, but he and Ariel were happy. That was step number one. Steps numbers 2 through 6 included: (2) reuniting with Silver, (3) confronting Sinbad, (4) proposing to Ariel, (5) determining Ariel's pregnancy status -

 _(was she pregnant or NOT?!)_

\- and (6) checking on Wendy.

Wendy concerned him the most. Jim hadn't seen her since the battle. He'd almost died after breaking the Wishing Star, and the hospitalization process was equally as painful. He was being healed by Merlin's magic.

Sound awesome? Think again. Magic was not a great antidote. There _were_ caveats to Merlin's incantations (apparently Jim would need glasses someday), but _whatever_. Ariel thought glasses were sexy.

The Underworld also separated Wendy from Jim. Apparently, Tinkerbell had bequeathed Pitch the Underworld, and Wendy was cleaning his mess. The shadows were rampant, stray nightmares crept under beds, and Big Ben had blinked out. Jim felt bad for Wendy. She'd slaved six years to rebuild the Underworld, only to have it destroyed.

King Arthur had _heavily_ suggested reconstruction and Wendy (to Jim's slight surprise) immediately obeyed. She descended to the Underworld and disappeared...even as the reals remained wide open.

It was almost like Wendy was hiding. Avoiding.

Hm.

As Ariel would say: something was _fishy_. Jim knew Wendy too well. She was a homebody. She got homesick. She enjoyed 'mothering' their family and friends. Why would she stay in the Underworld?

"Hey Ariel?" Jim shifted in his hospital bed. "Whatever happened to Pan?"

"Peter? Peter Peter Pumpkin Eater?"

Jim smiled. _Well that was adorable._ "Yeah."

"Dunno." Ariel hopped off the mattress. Dr. Sweet had entered, and he had rules about double bunking. "Probably in Skyworld. Hopefully trying to turn off all this rain!"

Jim considered. The bedside window pattered with raindrops. Wet leaves plastered the sill. It had been raining for days.

"Ariel?"

"Yeah-yuh?"

"I might need a favor. Game?"

"Sure! I can do you a solid!" Ariel leaned on her trident. Since retrieving the trident from Astrid, Ariel hardly let it go. "What can I do ya for?"

Jim indicated the window. "Can you find Peter?"

"Can I who?"

"Can you find Peter? Or at least make contact? Arthur's been postponing his wedding – "

"Much like someone else I know."

"—and—" Jim paused for Ariel's playful grin. " _And_ , he's postponing because of us. I get that the kingdom is rebuilding and everything, but Arthur won't wait much longer. He gets lovesick if Amalthea goes to the bathroom."

"Ooo, awkward."

"I wish it wasn't true."

"Nah it's cute!"

"Whatever."

"So why find Peter?"

"Because Arthur isn't going to wait." Jim repeated. "He's going to marry Amalthea soon. When they marry, we'll get shipped to our realms. I need to touch base with Peter _before_ that happens."

"Okay," Ariel reiterated as Dr. Sweet approached. "You want me to find Peter so Arthur can give us a pep talk, marry Amalthea, then send us back to our realms for a an eternity apart?"

Jim made face.

Ariel responded with a smirk. "Sure you want me to find Peter now?"

"Yes." Jim winced as Dr. Sweet assessed his shoulder range. Both sockets were still unstable. "I need to talk. Man to man. After all we're gaurdians. Might as well work together to make... _things_ better."

If Ariel caught the hidden meaning she didn't comment.

"Okie dokie, I'll drag Peter from Skyworld. Just remember you asked for it!" Ariel smooched his nose. She giggled as Jim aimed for her lips, and held.

Dr. Sweet continued to inspect Jim's shoulder. Unemotionally, he unpeeled Jim's bandages. But when their passion strained Jim's stitches, he cleared his throat.

"Ariel you're sending my patient into cardiac arrest."

Ariel was unabashed. Biting Jim's bottom lip, she pulled away.

"We have lift off! Okay sailor, over and out! I'm off to find Peter Pan!" Ariel's twirled her trident out of the door. "TTFN! Ta ta for now! See you later! Bye!"

Jim waved, a little glum. This would be the first time Ariel left his bedside, and he was already impatient for her return. Who would have thought such a sweet, genuine girl could be his? Sigh. They _really_ had to figure out if she was pregnant.

"Okay, Lord Hawkins." Dr. Sweet smoothed gauze over his shoulder. The gauze glittered with magical resin. "Nap time."

The magical resin started to tingle. The tingle started to burn.

"Will this _finally_ fix my shoulders?" Jim rolled his neck, trying to relax. "Tomorrow will they be good to go?"

"Soon, but not yet." Dr. Sweet drew the blinds. The room dimmed. "Most of your healing is being done by magic. But magic is a quick fix. Master Merlin's potions are regenerating your cells, increasing blood flow, repairing cartilage, etcetera. _But_ that's _no_ substitute for the real deal. It's going to take _time_ for your body to _truly_ heal via natural processes."

Jim nodded. "Tune up versus replacement?"

"Car analogy?"

"Yeah."

"I'm only a physician Jim. Don't do cars."

"My bad."

"No problem. The magic is necessary, even though it's a cheap solution. King Arthur needs you in Outerworld pronto. That black hole looks nasty. Apparently, His Majesty is worried about alien-pirate invasions." Dr. Sweet propped pillows under Jim's arms. "And for that, you can't wait six to eight weeks for your shoulders to strengthen. So, we use magic."

On cue, the magical resin diffused through his shoulder. The muscles and ligaments spasmed reactively.

Jim became drowsy. The acute side effects of magic – sleep.

"So my shoulders will be workable, tomorrow?" he said, eyelids heavy.

Dr. Sweet sounded very far away. "They will be functional. Not herculean."

"I'll need to lift...heavy machinery."

"Get some rest Lord Hawkins."

"Because tomorrow I gotta fix...my solar surfer..." Jim's thoughts mushed into a childhood memory. "And my dad left us...I'll have to do it...myself...Wen's strong ...but I don't want her to get... hurt..."

Jim fell asleep. He started to nightmare, but the bad dream stopped before it began. Jim slept soundly, undisturbed by the prickling magical resin.

What actually _did_ wake him was a wonderful smell.

"Coffee?"

The ward was dark. It was night. Moonlight glowed fuzzily through the rain. Shoulders aching, Jim looked for the coffee source. He found it.

Sitting at his bedside, extra-large coffee in hand, was Wendy.

Wendy was reading, a jar of pixie dust held like a book light. Jim didn't recognize the book, but it was enormous. Wendy was engrossed with the narrative, however, the moment Jim murmured ' _coffee_...'

She looked up.

"Jim." Wendy referenced a corner clock. She smiled. "Good morning."

Jim squint. It was past midnight. _2 a.m._ Good flipping morning indeed. "Bout time you showed up. Wen, why aren't you asleep?"

Wendy laughed. Closing her book, she handed Jim the extra-large coffee. "Would you believe that this is only a dream and I'm not real?"

"Nope."

"Then I'm afraid I have no defense. Here..." Wendy opened the coffee tab. She indicated his injured shoulders. "Can you raise it?"

"For coffee?" Jim brought the coffee to his lips. "For coffee I'll do anything. Mmmm." Jim closed his eyes, enraptured. "Ah. Engines must feel this way after an oil change. Thanks Wen."

"It's decaffeinated."

"Doesn't matter. Still good. This from _Tony's_?"

"Yes! _Tony's Restaurant_ is completely rebuilt." Wendy spread her arms. "Big brick building, just as before. Tony's wine cellar still opens to the Underworld, so I just ordered the coffee on my way to see you. Tony sends his love."

Jim rotated the coffee cup. The cardboard sleeve was inky, covered with Italian well-wishes from Tony and Joe. There were even two footprints from Tony's dogs, Lady and Tramp.

Jim indulged. "Thanks Wen. I missed you."

"I missed you as well."

"So kingdom reconstruction is going good?"

"It's going _well_." Wendy said, correcting his grammar. "As is _your_ reconstruction, I see."

"Long." Jim rotated his shoulder. A ligament popped, but it wasn't painful. "But it's going. That damn Wishing Star nearly killed me."

"Language."

"Sorry."

"Jim that was very brave of you." Wendy said, hearkening to his near death. "Breaking the star when you didn't have your graphene suit. I remembered you telling me shooting stars burn everything in their path. I thought for certain you had... oh Jim. I've never been so scared. And poor Ariel..."

Wendy shuddered. "Don't _ever_ almost die again."

Jim set the coffee between his knees. "I won't if you won't. Deal?"

"I think that sounds fair."

"So where _have_ you been?" Jim asked, uncharacteristically demanding. "Underworld I know, but seriously you couldn't resurface?"

"King Arthur asked that I catch all the nightmares."

"I haven't seen you in _weeks_."

Wendy was understanding. "I've kept my eye on you."

"Really?"

"Yes."

"Ariel's been with me every night. _She_ hasn't seen you."

"Jim." Wendy shook her pixie dust. The light cast shadows. She pointed. "Did you honestly think I wouldn't leave a spy?"

Jim studied the shadows. It might have been a side effect of Merlin's magical resin, but the shadows suddenly grew faces, hands, fingers, and feet...

"Please don't tell me one of those is Peter's shadow."

Wendy dampened. She lowered the pixie dust. "No. Peter's shadow stays with me. But only for the time being. I can't find my thimble. And...well, I ought to return Peter's shadow."

"How?"

"Headmaster Mickey suggested sewing." Gloomily, Wendy lifted her needle and thread. "That's the proper way to do it. I just...don't know if Peter..."

Wendy faded. The conversation was turning sour. Jim decided to change it.

"So how is Underworld reconstruction going?"

"Splendid." Wendy replied, almost too quickly. "Remember those holes I drilled under beds? Well they're all plugged up, so Bunny is happy. I've gathered most of the shadows, and Sandman is helping me destroy Pitch's nightmares. It's exciting Jim – Sandman is turning the nightmares into dreams, and we're _storing_ them in Ziploc bags! Someday, Hiccup thinks I might be able to use the dreams as a teaching tool in School of Shadow – "

"School of what?"

"School...School of Shadow." Wendy deliberated before continuing. Finally, she hefted the enormous book in her lap. "You see this book? This is called _The Book of Dragons_. It was written by Hiccup. You see, when I was in Berk, Hiccup told me how difficult it was for Vikings and dragons to initially coexist. It took a little elbow grease and mutual trust, but Hiccup said once they _learned_ about dragons, the Vikings flourished. Dragons became blessings. Not burdens."

Wendy inhaled. "Jim...I think..."

"You want to learn more about shadows." Jim connected the dots. "And you want to teach."

Wendy hugged the book. "About right."

"Sounds like a large order. Especially by yourself. You sure?"

Wendy rubbed her forearm. Her fingers grazed the scars.

"I am a shadow worker. And it _scares_ me that I don't know what that means. Had I known, perhaps Pitch Black wouldn't have entered my mind. Had I known, perhaps this war wouldn't have happened. Hiccup was right. I don't know what I don't know. There might be others like me, people just as confused but less fortunate to have my friendships. I'm lucky. You've taken care of me. You accepted my powers long before I ever did. But..."

Wendy sighed. "But I'm _tired_ of hiding in the shadows. _I'm_ alright with me. And now... I want others to be alright with me as well."

Jim was astounded. Wendy had grown up. She'd found peace (and maybe a little pride) with the fate The Wishing Star had given her.

However, Jim was still worried.

"Have you mentioned this to Arthur? Or is this Hiccup's idea?"

Wendy bit her lip. Jim had seen that mannerism one thousand times. He already knew Wendy's answer.

"Hiccup...Chief Haddock...has offered to start School of Shadow...in Berk."

Jim's stomach twisted. "So then...you wouldn't be a guardian."

"Correct."

"Is that even possible? Can you stop being a guardian? Do we have a choice?"

"I don't know."

Jim swallowed. "If it were...would you accept?"

Wendy did not reply. She traced the _Book of Dragons_ , almost wistfully. Then, with a downcast sigh, she attempted a response.

"During the battle, Hiccup survived Pitch's nightmares with a happy thought. So did Peter. As did I. Jim, _obviously_ shadows and nightmares are not invincible. They can be defeated. And I want to know why. I want to unlock the secrets. Don't you?"

Jim consented. "Yes, of course. But...it'd be a lot harder going to work without you on my team. Separated or not, guardianship would suck without you."

"Jim I'm always on your team." Wendy offered a pinkie. "Best friends. Remember?"

"Yeah." Jim hooked his pinkie around hers. "Forever."

They shook. The clock tolled.

"Where is Ariel?" Wendy asked.

Jim paused. He looked at their intertwined pinkies.

Then,

"I asked her to find Peter."

Wendy released. Jim watched her reaction like a hawk.

"Still love him?" he asked.

Wendy evenly returned. "Still love Ariel?"

"I asked first."

"I asked second."

"Ladies first."

"Age before beauty."

"Yes." Jim replied, distracted by a knock on the door. "Yes I still love Ariel. So now, _Wendy Moria_ , do you still – "

"And you've proposed by now, I assume?"

Jim faltered. "No. Not yet."

Wendy blinked. "No? Not yet?" The door knocked again. But Wendy ignored it. Hands on hips, she declared to high heaven. " _James Pleiades_ what in the _world_ is _wrong_ with you!? What the devil are you waiting for?"

"What am I waiting for?" Jim almost laughed. "Admiral Triton, that's what! I asked him for Ariel's hand – "

"And?"

"And he _didn't_ say _yes_!"

"Well -" Wendy leaned. "Did he say _no_?"

"He freakin...he...oh."

Silence.

Jim sat back.

Wendy clicked her tongue.

And the door, for a third time, knocked.

"For goodness sake." Wendy gathered her belongings. "If I've said it once I've said it a hundred times: Jim Hawkins. You are the most defiant, rebellious, mutinous boy in the entire universe." Lovingly, Wendy kissed Jim's head and departed. "Go ask Ariel to become your wife."

Wendy left, grumbling about silly boys. As she slipped out the door, King Arthur was waiting – smiling inside his bathrobe, pajamas, Excalibur, and two chai-tea lattes.

"Morning." Arthur offered a latte. "I hear you're a Viking now."

Wendy was flummoxed. "Oh dear." she stammered, helplessly accepting the tea. "Your Majesty, I –"

"It's Arthur."

"Arthur I was going to tell you about the Viking matter. But with the Underworld reconstruction, and your castle rebuilding, and Jim healing, and everything so dreadfully confusing – "

"Have you met Amalthea?"

"I beg your pardon?"

"Have you met Amalthea?" Arthur motioned. Wendy followed his gesture to a pure white lady, also in her bathrobe and also carrying a latte. Wendy had the sensibility to curtsy (even though she'd caught the king and future queen on a nighttime spree).

"Allie." Arthur introduced. "This is Wendy."

Amalthea nodded. "The shadow worker."

"Yup!"

"Very pleased to meet you Wendy. From what I know, female shadow workers are quite rare. Typically the art-form is male dominant. You must be very powerful."

Wendy took a moment to be intrigued. _Female shadow workers were rare. That made sense – the other two shadow workers she knew (Yen Sid and Facilier) were men. Interesting. She'd have to start writing this down...in...The Book of Shadow. Hm._

"Wendy is powerful." Arthur agreed. "So powerful, Hiccup and I are holding negotiations for you right now."

Wendy balked. "You're what?"

"We're suppose to be in bed." Arthur shrugged happily at Amalthea. "But Hiccup and Astrid invited us to Tony's for late night pizza. We are breaking _all_ the rules of nobility."

"Double dating." Amalthea clarified sweetly. "Terribly unfashionable."

"Well Merlin caught us!" Arthur continued, beaming at Amalthea. "So we pretended to be holding negotiations, which actually became pretty heated when we got around to you. Wendy, Hiccup wants you to live with the Vikings, buuuuuut I'm not willing to let you go so easily. Fantasia needs a shadow worker. But...so does the Otherland. It's a pickle however..."

Arthur glanced secretively at Amalthea. They smiled. Sparkles practically went off.

"However." Arthur finished, "Amalthea and I think we have a solution. And Wendy, I think you'll approve. _But_ Hiccup is waiting. Can we speak with you at Tony's. Please?"

Wendy was ambivalent.

"It's awfully late." she began.

"Yes." Arthur led Wendy and Amalthea down the hospital corridor. "It _is_ late, but time is short. You see, today is October 31st. Halloween. Tomorrow, on November first, Amalthea will be crowned queen. And then, we will marry."

Arthur swung his hand into Amalthea's. He squeezed excitedly, but spoke solemnly. "Wendy you and the guardians don't have much time. So please, trust me. I'm trying to make this work."

Wendy followed King Arthur and Lady Amalthea to Tony's Restaurant. They were hailed by Vikings (all wearing helmets and pajamas), before settling for the secret conference.

Outside the rain drizzled to a mist. The autumn moon glowed orange in a purple sky.

Peter Pan stood before The Darling's graves. He gazed between them, too afraid to ask a simple question.

Luckily, Ariel pounced him from behind.

"Gotcha!"

 **... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ...**

 **sultal's note: I've had many requests for fanart for like every character. It's on my schedule of unending "to do's" so keep hanging in there with me. :) If I can commission other artists (for free bc I gots no money) I will have them draw these characters. If anyone else wants to take a stab at it, go for it and I will make a post/link to your page etc etc etc.**

 **keep writing.**


	139. Chapter 139: Change The Fate's Design

**Chapter 139: Change The Fate's Design**

October 31st. Halloween.

Fantasia had dressed up, but not for the holiday. Fantasia had dressed for the _celebration_.

It was the eve before King Arthur's wedding ( _again_ )! The trees burned pink, yellow, orange, and red. They sky burned blue. The sun was warm. The breeze was cool. And everyone was _reasonably_ confident that King Arthur would marry without getting (1) cursed by his bride or (2) raided by Vikings.

Second time's a charm.

The "Royal Wedding" was scheduled for November 1st, and the guest list was tiny. Arthur had invited Merlin (to be his best man), Merlin had invited Archimedes (to be his +1), Amalthea had invited Odette (to be her Maid of Honor), Odette had invited Schmendrick (to be her +1), and Headmaster Mickey was officiating the ceremony.

That was it. The royal advisers had condemned his decision, but Arthur put his foot down. Literally. Right on Master Cogsworth's toe.

Arthur had swiftly apologized to Master Cogsworth before continuing.

 _"_ _Amalthea and I want a small wedding. Ours vows will be spoken to each other, not the entire kingdom. Our people can wish us well when Amalthea is crowned queen at Camelot."_

Yes it was reverse order. Arthur planned to marry Amalthea _after_ declaring her queen. But everything was happening at Camelot so -

Camelot?

What is Camelot, you ask?

Camelot was King Arthur's new home. Camelot was King Arthur's new castle. Camelot was King Arthur's new court. Camelot was the capital of King Arthur's realm. It was a symbol of the world he was trying to build.

Camelot had been inspired by Schmendrick's campfire story. Arthur had resurrected the ancient ideals of Camelot and (with Amalthea's help) he brought them to light.

First, he destroyed the Great Wall. He opened Fantasia to the Otherland.

Down went the Great Wall! From the rocks, Arthur's new castle came. The castle was built EXACTLY one-half in Fantasia and EXACTLY one-half in the Otherland.

Yes EXACTLY. The Seven Dwarfs measured. And measured. And _measured_. They _finally_ finished the castle in seven days – slow for them. But Arthur was so anxious that they get it right, he had started to micromanage.

That didn't sit well with the Seven Dwarves.

 _"_ _Yes King Arthur we are CERTAIN your castle is EXACTLY one-half in Fantasia and EXACTLY one-half in the Otherland! Gosh darn it! Quit bugging us! Buzz off!"_

Arthur reluctantly buzzed off. Amalthea calmed the Seven Dwarves. They decided to remain friends.

Then came the fun stuff.

 _Knights_. King Arthur's Knights of the Round Table.

Oh yeah. All capitalized. They were that remarkable.

 _"_ _I dub thee, Sir Garrett."_ Arthur had smiled, gently gliding Excalibur from Garrett's shoulder to Kayley's. " _I dub thee, Lady Kayley. And I dub thee Sir Shrek – "_

 _"_ _Hold yer horses Artie!"_ Shrek had dodged, his grin extra crooked for the king. _"There's no turning back after this! Sure ye want an ogre knight errant?"_

Arthur had laughed. _"Pretty sure."_ he said, knighting Shrek before the court. _"We've got a nice set of shining armor, just your size. It comes with a happily ever after guarantee."_

Devon and Cornwall had applauded. They kissed Shrek. Shrek knocked the dragons senseless, then forced Garrett to kiss Kayley. Kayley was ecstatic. So was Garrett. Aiden approved. Arthur congratulated his new knights, then kissed Amalthea.

The happiness continued.

Elsa and Amalthea became friendly (sharing the laments of white hair), and Arthur became fascinated with Jack Frost. Jack and Elsa shared formidable powers; their magical potential was unbounded. So, Arthur charged them to guard the North Pole – he proclaimed them the Snow Queen and Frost King.

It got better.

With Arthur's _official_ proclamation, Jack Frost's invisibility peeled completely away. Jack was happy. Very happy. So was Elsa.

Lots of victories. Lots of excitement. Lots of happiness.

Cue Archimedes.

"Give it a year Wart, you'll be miserable! While you're off questing for a fiddle faddle Holy Grail or Loch Ness monster, Amalthea will be fiddle faddling with one of your knights! You'll be a frazzled little king before the year is through, mark my words! Your reign will be a grave travesty I say, a GRAVE travesty indeed!"

Arthur smiled. He, Master Merlin, and Headmaster Mickey had retired to the westward parapet. The castle view was stunning. Camelot was beautiful, almost fictional in nature.

So obviously, Archimedes felt obligated to ruin the moment with rants. _Wart this – Wart that – Fix your crown – Stand up straight – Wipe that stupid grin off your face!_

Arthur was unaffected. Even Archimedes' infidelity comment couldn't dent his humor. _Any_ mention of Amalthea lit Arthur like a firework.

For instance, at the moment, Arthur was thinking of Amalthea and grinning like a fool. Amalthea had been dispatched to Edna Mode for a "top secret" wedding dress. Edna had _personally_ promised to murder Arthur if he DARED look at Amalthea before her coronation.

It was a lovely burden. Arthur imagined Edna pounding Amalthea with questions, driving her through the Fairygodmother Algorithm. Then he imagined Amalthea, calmly answering Edna's demands, twinkling when she thought something was funny, and quietly reminding herself to tell Arthur later.

Arthur sighed. His sigh was too dreamy for Master Merlin.

"Confound it Wart." Master Merlin poked Arthur with his wand. "Nuff with the romantics! Buck up or Archimedes' is going to spontaneously combust."

Arthur rubbed his ribs. "How would that be any different from normal?"

"You can drop the humor too!"

"Sorry Merlin."

"Then try _acting_ sorry! Stop smiling! Jehoshaphat, you're getting on my nerves!"

 _Bonk_. Master Merlin whacked Arthur's head. Magic popped from his wand, dyeing Arthur's hair blue.

Headmaster Mickey smiled. _Geeps._ _Those two._

"Right. Sorry." Arthur massaged his head. He waited for the blue to turn blonde. Then, almost brotherly, he glanced sideways. "Merlin?"

" _What_?"

"Allie's a knock out, huh?"

Master Merlin did not budge. He scowled straight ahead. Then, as Archimedes squawked obliviously by, Merlin's mouth twitched, fighting a grin.

"Indeed." Merlin offered Arthur a fist. "Well done Wart."

Arthur beamed. He returned Merlin's fist bump.

Headmaster Mickey laughed into his hand. _Geeps._ _Those two._

"Well!" Arthur bowed mockingly to his seniors. "I must away! Hiccup awaits my presence at the Round Table and the guardians should be arriving soon. I've only got a few more _happily ever afters_ to check off my list! And if things go perfectly, this story _will_ end happily ever after! So in the words of Rapunzel: _Heal what has been hurt. Change the Fate's design. Save what has been lost. Bring back what once was mine_!"

Arthur saluted. "Wish me luck!"

Master Merlin and Headmaster Mickey waved. Their smiles melted as Arthur disappeared.

"Happily ever after. He wants this story to end happily ever after." Master Merlin confronted Headmaster Mickey. "Did you tell him?"

Headmaster Mickey shook his head. "No. And I don't think we should."

"Why not?"

"I haven't seen her."

"So?"

"So Arthur's plan might work. The guardians might end up happy."

"But not happily _ever after_." Merlin squared to the little mouse. "Headmaster, do you _know_ the role of _storytellers_?"

Headmaster Mickey did not respond. He gazed at the Black Hole, left by the Wishing Star. The Black Hole was still visible, even more so against the blue sky. It was a dirty smudge, exposing their world to unimaginable perils.

"Yes." Headmaster Mickey finally replied. "I am familiar with the legends. Storytellers…are meddlers."

"Storytellers are _villains_."

Master Merlin crouched. He spoke sharply. "You _know_ the legends. Our lives are our own _until_ a storyteller gets hold of them. It becomes the storyteller's _job_ to stand in our way. They delight in it. Our very existence becomes a literary conflict: _storyteller versus character_."

Merlin pointed after Arthur. "That boy means more to me than _anything_. Arthur _truly_ believes that he can save Ariel, Peter, Wendy, and Jim. So Headmaster, you need to tell Arthur. You need to tell Arthur that you saw a _storyteller_. You need to tell him that she has influence over our lives. You need to tell him… because in the event that Arthur Pendragon is unable to _change the storyteller's design_...he will blame himself…for the guardians fate."

Headmaster Mickey was torn. "But…she promised everything would work out alright. And she didn't seem…cruel. Just…"

"Fanatic? Overly enthused? A _good_ storyteller?" Master Merlin darkened. "My dear headmaster. Think of the books you've read. A good story _combats_ it's good characters."

They argued too long. Much too long.

For King Arthur was already trying to change...the _Fate's_...design.

Key word:

Trying.


	140. Chapter 140: Boy, Why Are You Crying?

**Chapter 140: Boy, Why Are You Crying?**

Peter had _three_ modes: confident, carefree, and angry.

He regarded Ariel with the latter.

"Triton get that fork _out_ of my face!"

Ariel had _infinite_ modes. But she regarded Peter with her favorite: friendly aggression.

"Haha! Come on Peter." Ariel withdrew her trident, but not before tapping Peter's chin. "Don't be such a guppy!"

Peter shoved. The trident scraped harmlessly across the stone parapet. "You quit being the guppy. This is dumb. So dumb. Crummy castle. Just so you know, I can fly away whenever I want. Not like you're actually keeping me here."

"I know!" Ariel chirped. "But you gotta stay. Jim wants to speak with you."

"When Hell freezes."

"Arthur also wants to see us!"

"Us?"

"Yeppers."

"Define us."

"Seriously?!" Ariel ruffled Peter's hair. She giggled as Peter swatted her away. "Who do you think? _Us!_ The Big Four! The Power Tower! The fantastic Fantasian guardians of Outerworld, Skyworld, Seaworld, and Under – "

 _Underworld. Wendy._

"Knock it off!" Peter turned a full circle, trying to avoid a sudden panic. It didn't work. He threw his dagger and stomped on it. The sole of his neon sneaker split, which made Peter angrier.

"Argh! Geeze! Darn it, Ariel! Is it too late to lose your voice again? Can't _wait_ until realm separation! Then I won't have to hear you talk!"

"Nice Peter. Classy."

"You actually believe the guardians are a team?" Peter slashed a hand. "Think again! We're not a team! We are nothing! _Nothing_!"

"You talking about us?" Jim entered the stone archway. He crossed defensively between Ariel and Peter. "Or you and Wendy?"

"Me a-nd-We -? You son of a -" Peter fumed. He kicked his dagger and caught it midair. "That's enough!"

"Come again?"

"I said enough!" Peter burst. His emotional filter broke and the hot, toxic feelings spread. "Enough of _this_! Enough of _you_! ENOUGH! Wendy is not _yours_!"

Peter buzzed in midair, _completely_ livid with Ariel, Jim, and himself.

Mostly himself. Actually, _all_ of himself.

Peter told Wendy. He told her his secret. He said I love you. _Never_ had Peter felt so vulnerable! So hopeful! So ready to _kill_ himself if Wendy didn't say 'I love you,' back!

This was a new feeling and it hurt! It was garbage! Before, it was _Wendy loves ME._ – _Wendy will marry ME._ – _I make the decisions. – I make the rules. – That way, I have nothing to lose because I refuse not to win._ Peter was unprepared to feel so defenseless. His very existence seemed at jeopardy.

Self-glorification was not enough anymore. Fangirl praise was not enough anymore. Peter _needed_ Wendy's admiration. Peter _needed_ Wendy's affirmation. Peter needed Wendy.

Without her, he was nothing.

"Rattail." said Peter. "Get _out_ of my way. I'm going to love that girl whether you give me permission or not. But if you want to fight for her, _trust_ me, I _will_ win."

Jim stared, his expression unreadable. His muscles tensed. His fingers twitched. But as Ariel touched his shoulder, Jim relaxed. Sighing, he reached into his pocket. He withdrew something shiny.

"Here." Jim dropped a delicate shimmering cube. It was small, raindrop size. Peter fumbled, but caught it, just in the nick of time. Still angered, he investigated.

He was taken aback.

"Is this...?"

"Piece of the Wishing Star." Jim drew Ariel into the castle. "You wanted it for her ring."

Jim and Ariel departed.

Peter was stunned. He smoothed the star fragment, rotating it carefully on his palm, and blinking when the twinkles bounced into his eye. It was perfect. So perfect.

"That _rat_." Peter closed his fist. He growled incredulously after Jim. "He just gave me permission to marry Wendy!"

Someone laughed. But laugh came from _above_.

"Hard part ain't over yet, kid. You still gotta ask her."

Peter zipped upwards, twisting to the speaker.

He almost fell from the sky.

Pips smiled. Crysta waved as he studied Peter, soaking every detail. Pips tried to look buff, (noticing that Peter was studying him) but quickly got bored. Pan men were gorgeous, and the view was not going to change. Might as well introduce themselves.

Bobbing forward, Pips extended a hand.

"Hullo Peter. My name is Pips Pan. I am your uncle. This is Crysta, my one bodacious babe."

"Hiiiiii!" Crysta swooshed nose to nose. She grabbed Peter's ears before he could escape. "I knew your father! And your mother! Oh my gosh! Pips! Peter has Thumbelina's big ol' eyes! And he has Cornelius' big ol' ears! Oh HOW CUTE!"

Crysta scrunched Peter's ears. Peter tried to retreat, but Pips intercepted. Peter would have sliced Pips to ribbons, but Crysta lifted his shirt.

"Pips look! Wendy was right! Peter DOESN'T have wings!"

Pips chuckled.

"Okay kid. Scoot the boot." Pips led his nephew inside. "Time for the hard part."

 **.. … … … … … … … … … … … … … … .. … … … .. … … … … … …** **.. … … … … … … … … … … … … … … .. … … … .. … … … … … …**

Peter found Wendy. But he did not go to her.

Wendy was at the Round Table. The chamber was enclosed by crystalline windows, which turned the room gold against the setting sun. Peter drifted through the rays. He flewto the ceiling, too frightened to approach.

Wendy was not alone. King Arthur, Hiccup, and a slew of Vikings surrounded her. They were being a little too rowdy for Peter's taste – thumping Wendy's back, tossing her Viking helmet, and tousling her hair.

Peter _almost_ intervened when Hiccup gave Wendy a hug. But Wendy smiled. Then she laughed. So he didn't. She looked happy. Peter became sad.

Suddenly Arthur glanced. Peter pressed against the rafters. He froze, fearing Arthur had seen him. But Arthur didn't react. At least, he didn't call attention to Peter's presence. Instead, Arthur rose, adjusted his crown, and addressed the company – his smile a little too smug.

"Well, that is that. Wendy Darling, now that I am giving Fantasia to the Otherland, and Chief Haddock is granting allegiance to me, you have dual citizenship. You are an honorary Viking _and_ a guardian of Fantasia. Congratulations."

"Thank you, Your Majesty."

"You're welcome. Now...if you're sure this is what you want?"

Wendy nodded. She waited for the Vikings to stop cheering. "I am. Quite sure. I doubt that I could _not_ be a guardian. Besides it makes sense. If I am to learn more about shadows, what better place than the Underworld?"

"You won't be alone this time." Arthur exchanged resolute nods with Hiccup. "Chief Haddock makes strong points that I overlooked. I think with his help, I can better serve my guardians."

"For starters." Hiccup bounced excitedly on his prosthetic limb. "I hope the Underworld is ready for our dragons!"

"I think so." Wendy twinkled. "We've overstocked on fish sticks."

They laughed. Peter glowered. He was thankful when Arthur cleared the room, leaving Wendy alone.

"Lady Shadow Worker." Arthur touched his heart, bidding farewell. Then, with a little smirk and half-glance up, he elevated his voice. "I am going now. You shouldn't be disturbed. Goodnight."

Peter raised a brow. He watched Arthur skip off, whistling a tune that sounded suspiciously like _It's Fine By Me If You Never Leave_.

Peter scoffed. Wow – weirdo. Geeze Wart - that crown might be a little too tight.

Dismissing Arthur's strange behavior, Peter adjusted against the ceiling. He returned to Wendy.

Wendy was looking at him.

"Hello Peter."

When his heart returned to his chest, Peter could hear it beat. His heart must have _also_ been heavy because he drifted down, very much against his pride.

Peter landed. He stared.

"Hullo Wendy."

Wendy remained seated, toying with something in her hands. She squeezed whatever it was before stammering. "Thisisyours."

Peter almost grinned. "What?"

Wendy pursed her lips. She looked down, making a small, self-critical sound (probably for the stammer). Peter counted to three in his head – Wendy would take three seconds to collect herself before -

 _Wait._ Peter touched his temple. _How did he know that? Did he just...read her?_ Peter blinked. Wendy had composed herself, but Peter was too busy looking for the magic that had sparked between them to listen.

"This." Wendy diligently repeated, producing her magic thimble. "Is yours. Remember you... _misplaced it_ at King Arthur's wedding? Well, Doc found it in the wreckage. It was buried, deep underground. It's very lucky that Doc found it. Now Peter...I _know_ you were upset before. But I _still_ think you should wear the thimble. It doesn't have to be from me, just think of it as protection so you never have to worry about being shadow worked ever aga— "

"Wendy I love you."

Wendy stopped. Peter _did not_ let her speak.

This was his last chance.

Peter knelt. He clasped both hands around hers, and prayed. "Wendy I love you. I love you and I don't know what to say, I don't know what to do, except beg that you love me too... and...and...oh no..."

Peter buried his head in Wendy's lap, utterly horrified. "And now I'm going to cry."

Wendy stared at Peter, weeping into her dress.

Then, she laughed.

"Oh dear Peter...silly boy." Wendy kissed Peter's fiery head. "Why are you crying?"

From around the corner, Ariel, Hiccup, Astrid, Crysta, Pips and the Vikings spied. Hiccup shushed the Vikings. Jim gazed from a distance, and was joined breathlessly by Arthur.

"Did he ask her yet?!"

Ariel answered.

"Quit crying and kiss her!" she yelled as the Vikings hooted. "Come on Peter! Pan the Man her face off!"

Wendy smiled at the door, stroking Peter's hair. Then she laughed as Peter pulled her off the chair and under The Round Table, to _privately_ kiss his bride.

Peter's shadow gave itself a hug. It spiraled into the sunlight, thumped it's chest, and crowed.

Peter echoed. So did Wendy. Everybody joined.

Jim eased from the merrymaking.

Ariel and Astrid had already planned to take Wendy wedding dressing shopping, so there was little purpose for him to stay. It was ironic – Jim always thought _he_ would be the one to buy Wendy's wedding dress. Best friend sort of thing. But Ariel was better suited for that. Ariel had fashion sense. And Wendy deserved female companionship. Especially the night before her wedding.

Besides, dress shopping? Boutiques? Not really his scene. Jim was sure Wendy didn't want him ... well... Jim was _sure_ that he didn't want to...

Actually, he wouldn't have minded. And neither would have Wendy.

They would have had fun. Just like they always had together.

Together.

What an awesome word. A word that was swiftly losing meaning for Wendy and Jim.

Jim trudged into the night. He went to the place he always went, when he didn't want to think: the garage. He tinkered with his solar surfer. He considered a test flight. He didn't. He slumped on the workbench, reliving a thousand memories of his best friend, and worrying about _all_ of their futures.

And then he heard the cyborg laugh.

"Wind damp in yer sails there, Jimbo?"

Jim smiled. "Hey Silver."


	141. Ch 141: Even If We Can't Find Heaven

**Chapter 141:** **Even If We Can't Find Heaven**

"Alright ladie, that'll do." Silver detached Jim from his pipe. "That's one puff too many. Ye know what they say. Rotten lungs, rotten heart."

Jim held smoke between his cheeks. He opened his mouth and exhaled. "You're smoking."

"I'm a cyborg."

"So?"

"So my lungs are tin cans and my throat's a bloomin' exhaust pipe." Silver blew through his nose. "And _yer_ too young for black teeth. 'Specially with such a fine lass to impress."

Jim let the argument fall. He hadn't _really_ needed a smoke – he'd ditched the teenage habit after meeting Ariel (and before Wendy caught him). At that time, smoking had been a stress reliever – a dumb, numbing, repetitious activity. Jim _would_ have tried fishing instead (another dumb, numbing, repetitious activity) but Sinbad had been a fisherman... that memory was not exactly stress relieving.

But now, smoking was just a 'guy thing.' Jim had honestly missed Silver. Smoking together was a way to reconnect. And why not? In terms of best friends, Silver was runner up. Wendy was obviously first, but after her wedding _and_ the pending realm separation, Jim would lose her.

Jim was feeling a little alone. So Silver's companionship was heaven-sent. With Silver, Jim felt a touch closer to invincible and a step farther from miserable.

He also loved that Silver appreciated Ariel's...attributes.

"Ariel is dynamite. She's got like twelve piercings in one ear." Jim pulled his earlobe, only to remember his earring was missing. He'd donated it to Wendy's dreamcatcher. Way back when.

Jim resumed the conversation with a shrug. "Ariel wouldn't mind if I smoked."

"She a girl?"

"Cha."

"She minds."

"Ha. Yeah." Jim nudged. "Yeah I know."

Silver nudged back. "She's a mighty fine lass."

"You have no idea."

"Pretty too."

Jim leaned back, hands behind his head. "She lights every room."

"Aye." Silver reclined aside Jim. "She does at that. Redheads, a breed of their own. Spitfires the lot of them."

"Yeah." Jim smiled. Then he frowned, distracted by sudden crackle-pop. He and Silver had retreated to Pirate's Point, and _The Princess_ (moored directly below) was shooting fireworks.

Naturally, Jim was irritated. The fireworks cluttered the sky, interrupting his stargazing. Moreover, if _The Princess_ was down there, then Sinbad...

Jim glanced at his house. Sarah's window was lit and Jim could only imagine what his parents were doing (although he tried not to). But he _did_ wonder how long Sinbad would stay. Would it be indefinite, or would Sinbad break his mother's heart? Again.

"Whatever." Jim murmured, carefully so Silver wouldn't hear. Concentrating on the stars, he switched subjects. "So what have you been doing up there? I spent forever trying to find you."

Silver frowned, like he'd rather backtrack to the 'whatever' comment. Jim wore his emotions and Silver could read them. Clearly, Jim was troubled by _x, y,_ and _z,_ and internalizing everything. However, Silver decided not to press. At least not yet. He was a sailor – he knew when to ride the waves.

Besides, Silver _had_ been having _amazing_ adventures. And he wanted to share.

"Lemmie tell ya Jimbo, I've explored every corner of the universe. Seen everything. Tried more. But there's _one_ place I haven't been. And I think...yer _map_ can help find it."

"My map?"

"Aye."

"You mean Billy Bones' map? The metal orb? The map leading to the Wishing Star?"

"The very same. It's a magical gadget Jim. Ye remember how the map opens?"

Jim nodded, bronze orb in his mind. "The groove sequence. You line up the grooves to unlock the movable parts. Then you punch in the code. Like a rubics cube."

"Aye, that's it! Well, they say Billy Bones charmed the map from an angel. And they _also_ say that the right combination will unlock the route...to Heaven."

"Heaven?" Jim turned. "For real?"

"Honest injun."

"Billy Bones' map..." Jim reiterated, just because it was so outlandish. "Has the coordinates to Heaven?"

"Haha aye, lad! Take a look!" Taking Jim's shoulder, Silver pointed between stars. "Heaven is behind one of them stars! Think of it! Our entire _cosmos_ is sitting under the most mysterious world of all time! Heaven is there, _somewhere!_ And Jimbo with your map we can find it!"

Jim hated to do it. "I lost the map."

"How's that?"

"I lost the map." Jim hunched against his knees. "During the Battle to Take Fantasia, I lost the map."

Silver was expectedly crushed. But he was _also_ an aggressive optimist, so the devastation was short.

"Well even if we can't find heaven." Silver directed Jim to the Black Hole. "We've got to worry about Hell."

Jim darkened. The Black Hole gaped like an open mouth. A _hungry_ open mouth.

"Yeah." he agreed. "That's not good."

"It be a little worse than not good." Silver traced the Black Hole. "I'm betting that ye've heard of Captain Flint and Ironbeard?"

"The interstellar pirates? Yeah, we've met." Jim glared at outer space. "Assholes."

"Aye, but assholes looking for a big ol' black hole. A black hole leading into Fantasia."

"I know." Jim remembered. "I told King Arthur about this at the Round Table meeting. If the Wishing Star breaks, then that would create two dangerous things: a shooting star and black hole. Well the shooting star happened - "

"Boy did it ever!"

"-and now we've got the Black Hole, opening right into Neverland."

"Never _what_?"

"Neverland. That's what I call galaxies that are not ours. The worlds behind our stars." Jim gazed through the Black Hole, into the next galaxy. "Wendy came up with the word. Neverland."

Again Silver regarded Jim, debating whether to give advice. Again, he decided against it. Resignedly, Silver rubbed char from his pipe.

"Aehhhhhhhhhhh well. Tis better that we can't find Heaven _yet_. That Black Hole is nasty. And you can wager that Captain Hook got sucked up into outer space, right along with the rest of those baddies. They're not gone yet. Least, not all of them. We're gonna have our hands full of pirates, villains, and boogiemen, Jimbo."

Jim started. "Wait – us?"

Silver affirmed.

"Aye, lad. I offered to ship out with ye once. But you refused and I let you. Children need to live their own lives, after all. But _this time_ , its Hawkins and Silver...shipmates, scoundrels, guardians of the Etherium."

Silver winked. "Trust me Jimbo. Ye need me."

"Ship out with us!" Morph celebrated. "Hawkins and Silver! OooooOOOooooee yay!"

They all smiled. Then Silver and Jim embraced. They didn't even try to make it manly: best friends usually don't.

But when _The Princess_ started to whoop, they withdrew.

"Alrighty now." Silver straightened his tricorn. "Tis a gala day tomorrow, what with the queen's coronation, followed by the king's royal wedding. You're a hot shot guardian now _Lord_ Hawkins – gonna have to make an appearance for the king. Best get some shut eye."

Jim scoffed, but obeyed nevertheless. "Won't get much sleep tonight. Ariel's not here, Sinbad _is_ , and Wendy...well Wendy..."

Silver quietly observed. He watched Jim struggle, and finally fail to concede Wendy's marriage. Jim just couldn't come to terms with it. At least, not verbally, and _certainly_ not within his heart.

Silver decided: it was time to interfere.

"Jim." Silver extended a robotic hand. "Ye can't hold on forever."

"Yeah." Jim's response was empty, broke. "I know."

"But," Silver squared Jim to his household, to where his father reside. "Some things ye can. Especially if they give you a second chance."

Jim stiffened. He glimpsed his parents through the living-room window as Silver gently disappeared.

"It ain't about seeing the good in people Jim. It's about seeing the bad, and wanting them anyways."

Jim remained, the cyborg's advice in his head. He stared at his home.

Then he went inside.


	142. Ch 142: I'll Walk Through Hell With You

**Chapter 142: I'll Walk Through Hell With You**

There was a loud whisper.

"Jim!"

Michael bounced downstairs, John behind. John looked mildly disgruntled, but Michael was glowing. "Jim, Wendy's getting married! She's getting married to Peter Pan! Mama Sarah just told us! Wendy's marrying Peter Pan tomorrow! There's going to be a _huge_ party!"

" _Directly_ following Lady Amalthea's coronation, before she and King Arthur wed. _Hmph_." John straightened his glasses. Jim was reminded of Mr. Darling as he continued with a sniff. "I like Peter and all – he's a good chap, a good chap indeed. But heavens, Wendy _should_ have ask us first. After all, she _is_ our sister and we _are_ her brothers. Hardly seems proper. Alas, what _is_ society coming to?"

"Wendy asked Lilo to take pictures!" Michael pretend to snap a camera. "Click! Click! Lilo was so happy. She loves photography!"

"Lilo? Pictures? Then that means Stitch will also be attending." John groaned. "Lord. I do hope Wendy hires an armed guard for the wedding cake"

"Wendy said Peter didn't want a cake. Just a lot of cookies." Michael mimed. "Tony from the pizza place is making them a cookie cake! A _mountain_!"

"As a wedding gift. _No charge_." John grumbled. "Poor Wendy. Doesn't she know that _no charge_ means _no flavor_?"

"John and I are in the wedding!" Michael puffed his chest. "We're best men!"

"Grooms men." John corrected. "Along with Aladdin and someone named _Pips_. Odd. In any case, Rapunzel, Tigerlily, and two _other_ ladies named Astrid and Crysta are bridesmaids."

"Mama Sarah is in the wedding too." Michael said, eager to redeem himself. "Mother of honor."

John shook his head. "Mother Sarah is the _mother of the bride_. I imagine that Sinbad will be father of the bride, considering _our_ father is unavailable. That would be gracious of Wendy."

Jim agreed. That would be _remarkably_ gracious of Wendy.

"So," Jim asked, although he already knew the answer. "Who's Wendy's maid of honor."

"Ariel." the boys said.

Jim nodded. Obviously it was Ariel. No brainier. Easy question.

But the next question was harder. Jim hesitated before venturing. "And…Peter's best man?"

Their faces fell. Michael's excitement paled. John's grimness became grimmer.

"Flynn." John replied, ushering Michael upstairs. "Peter's best man is Flynn Rider."

Michael lingered at the top step. "Sorry Jim. I think it should have been you, but...um. You want Mr. Bear?"

Jim _almost_ said yes. A teddy bear would do him good right now. Jim hadn't expected to be chosen best man (especially Peter Pan's best man). Peter and Flynn were best friends, it made sense.

But, Jim thought Wendy would have fought for him to be in the wedding. Hell – he'd be the freaking flower girl, who cared? Well maybe not the flower girl…but something.

Oh yeah. A hug from Michael's teddy bear sounded ridiculously tempting.

But Jim politely refused.

"No thanks Chief. I'm good." Jim faked a smile. "Better hit the hay. Big day tomorrow, we'll be on liquid fire. Get some sleep. Night guys."

"Night Jim."

"Jim sleep well. And…" John halfheartedly saluted. "Don't fret."

Jim saluted in return. "No worries there. I don't fret. Wen's got a new life ahead of her, she's probably trying to make it work between me and Peter. After all, she's technically still living with us. Peter doesn't even have a home to take her to. He must feel threatened. But no sweat John, Wen's a good girl. I'm not worried."

"If you say so."

"I know so. So get to bed. I'll see you tomorr - hey. Hey John?"

"Yes?"

Jim climbed the stairs, two at a time. He had an idea. An awesome idea. "John you're the Minister of Finance, right? How well do you know real estate?"

John was personally offended. "How _well_ do _I_ know _real estate_? Oh Jim. Oh dear, unenlightened, poor adopted brother of mine…do you even have to ask?"

"Quit with the pomp and circumstance. Do you know real estate or not?"

"Yes." John leaned on the banister. He allowed himself a small chuckle. "Yes Jim, I am _quite_ versed with real estate and _all_ pertaining financial calculations. Silly child."

"Okay. So my next question…" Jim leaned. "How fast can you turn nothing into a lot of money?"

John's grin was evil. Greasy, cheesy, and purely _evil_.

"Oh. Oh James." _Mister_ John Darling removed his top hat. He gave it a sinister stroke. "You'll have to define _a lot_. Because your estimate of _a lot_ , is assuredly _too little_."

Jim was spooked. But Michael giggled from the top step. "I'll get my piggy bank!"

They plotted away, surprisingly without reprimand from Sarah. Ariel had abducted Wendy for the night, and Sarah had returned from a late dress fitting. She was exhausted, but happily so. Retiring with Sinbad to the living room, Sarah casually eavesdropped as the boys schemed on Wendy's behalf. Head on her husband's knee, Sarah gently fell asleep.

"Okay. Mom's out for the count." Sinbad rounded the stairwell, finger pressed to his lips. He glanced cautiously at Jim before beseeching Michael and John. "Up, up and away men. Remember my two favorite words: bed time."

" _Bedtime_ is one word." John's fingers flew across his computer. With a crispy _tap – click – tap_ , he punched a final algorithmic trading code, and snapped the computer shut. "But I highly agree, bedtime it is! Jim, Michael – the deed is done."

Michael squealed. "We got it?"

"Indeed." confirmed John.

"Sure?" Jim asked.

John looked over his glasses. He studied Jim a moment, then clicked his tongue. "I'm really too tired to get riled up, and it's far too late for a lecture on my extensive educational background. So I will suffice you with this: _Yes_ Jim, I am sure. Everything is perfectly in place. We _got it._ So gentlemen, goodnight."

"Yes!" Michael cheered, forgetting Sarah in the opposite room. "Yes, yes, yes!"

"No, no, no!" Laughing, Sinbad slung Michael over his shoulder and up the stairs. "Pipe it down kido! Mom is sleeping! Savvy, savvy?"

"Savvy, savvy!" Michael chimed, waving to Jim. He squirmed and Sinbad seized his foot. "Ha ha that tickles! I'll be quiet for Mama Sarah, I promise! Ha ha! Night Jim!"

"…night."

Jim gazed after Michael and Sinbad, unsure if he was envious, reassured, or sad. But one thing was certain: Jim was _most_ unsure if he wanted to act upon Silver's advice. He just stood there, rethinking, remembering, and debating -

\- when Sinbad reappeared.

"Oh uh." Sinbad rooted to the top step. He backed slightly, then gestured to the living room. "Mind if I…?"

Jim frowned, confused. "Mind if you…?"

"Mom." Sinbad tapped a shoulder. He pulled a sleeve. "Mind if I get a blanket for Mom. So she doesn't get cold."

"Oh. Right." Jim cleared the way. He stared at the floor. "Go ahead. I mean you live…you live…he…re…" Jim hardened. He had wanted to say ' _you live here too_ ,' but didn't know if that was necessarily true. _The Princess_ was moored seaside. Sinbad might leave.

So Jim sluffed it with an original. "Yeah whatever. Go ahead."

"Thanks." Sinbad descended. His shadow paused on Jim, then proceeded to Sarah. "Thanks Jim."

"Yeah." Jim exhaled. He tried to summon his courage as Sinbad unrolled a quilt. "No problem. I uh...you…hey... Dad?"

Sinbad froze. Without turning, he calmly smoothed the quilt. "Son?"

Jim hardly whispered. "Th-thanks for saving Ariel. And for returning her voice. And…for coming back."

Sinbad stroked Sarah's hair. He smiled as she smiled, deep within a dream. Then, kissing Sarah's forehead, Sinbad turned.

"Jim, I'd walk through Hell with you."

Jim felt the tear before he could stop it.

"I know." he said. "But I'd rather you stay here."

Sinbad's heart clicked back together. "Good." he said, embracing his son. "Because that's the plan."

Aside from Ariel, Jim never held anyone so tightly. His hurt was not gone, but it was _finally_ starting to heal.

As was Sinbad's.

"Okay Luke Skywalker." Sinbad clipped Jim's jaw. God – it was sharp as his own. "You need to sleep. Big day for _you_ tomorrow, what with Scrimpy's wedding. You've got the toughest job of all."

Jim wiped his tear. "I do?"

"Yeah! Didn't anyone tell you?" Sinbad led Jim upstairs. "You're giving away the bride."


	143. Chapter 143: Pendy and Jariel

**Chapter 143: Pendy and Jariel**

" _Psst_. _Psst._ Wendy."

Wendy smiled. She knew who that rascal was, even without opening her eyes! Sifting under the linens, Wendy found Peter perched at the foot of her bed. She smiled. He returned.

"Hullo pretty girl."

"Hello Peter."

"Whatcha doing?" Peter crouched over the footboard. He rubbed her toes through the sheets. "Dreaming about me?"

Wendy rubbed with her foot. "Not anymore, silly boy. I'm wide awake. Peter why aren't you in bed?"

"I am in bed. Your bed." Peter hand-walked up Wendy's torso, legs trailing midair. Twisting vertical, he gave her a kiss. "Plus, I'm Peter Pan. Peter Pan doesn't sleep! Sleep is for mortals. And pretty little shadow workers."

"Shhh." Wendy hushed, reminding Peter of his manners. The Triton sisters had vacated, but Ariel occupied the next bed. "Shh silly boy. You'll wake Ariel."

"Naw, I won't."

"You very well might."

"She's asleep."

"Not anymore." Ariel mumbled under her pillow. "Gosh. You two are so cute it's disgusting... and Peter you're...ah. yawn...Peter you're a creepy little dingle hopper...sneaking in windows...middle of the...night..."

Ariel nuzzled, her trident twinkling a lazy, baby blue. She murmured something about Jim, adjusted on her stomach, then fell into a dream about starfish.

Wendy smiled at Peter. Peter smiled back. Rubbing noses, he uncovered her blankets.

"Come on pretty girl. We have a very important mission."

"Oh dear, now? Peter I'm – " Wendy gathered her nightgown. She curled against Peter as he carried her to the window. "Peter I'm not properly dressed."

"Oh." Peter smirked. The Devil smirked with him. "I disagree. I think you're a little overdressed."

"Shameful Mr. Pan."

"I'm just kidding. Honestly." Peter hopped over the sill and into the breeze. "This is important. You have to introduce me to someone. Actually...two someone _s_."

Wendy was mystified. Two s _omeones? Who? Sarah? Michael and John? Peter already knew Jim, and Wendy prayed he'd never meet Sinbad._ _Who could Peter mean?_

She found out. And when she did, Wendy knew Peter was the one.

"Wendy." Peter guided her across the cemetery. He paused before two gravestones, both glistening with autumn frost. Wendy touched her cheek, stunned.

 **MARY G DARLING : LOVING WIFE. LOVING MOTHER.**

 **GEORGE M DARLING : LOVING HUSBAND. LOVING FATHER.**

Peter had found her parent's graves.

Wendy squeezed his hand. "Peter..."

Peter grinned. "Not introducing me to your parents is very unladylike. So I guess I'll break the ice...eh hem!"

He cleared his throat.

"Eh he-he-hem! Okay, here it goes. Mr. Darling., Mrs. Darling. Hullo. My name is Peter Pan and I love your daughter. I know we've never met, so I can't ask you for her hand. But, I promise you can't imagine how much I need her. So..."

Peter hugged Wendy's shoulders. "I'm going to keep her."

At that point Peter paused, politely waiting for a response. When none came, he turned to Wendy.

"Do the honors, pretty girl?"

Wendy glowed. "Mother, father! This is Peter! He's the most wonderful boy that ever lived and I love him! I love him forever – "

"Forever?" Peter laughed. Seizing Wendy, he started to waltz. "Well that's not an awfully long time! I say, for _longer_ than forever!"

Wendy agreed. Peter crowed. And the Darlings smiled from heaven as their children danced – Wendy twirling in her nightgown and Peter singing like a bird.

"Yeesh." Ariel sighed from a distance. She had roused from her slumber ad followed the romantics en route for Jim. Marching alongside her trident, Ariel departed from the graves. "Those two. So cute. _Pendy_ all the way... _Pendy_?"

Ariel blinked. _Pendy? Where had that come from? What did that even mean_? Ariel glanced back, at Peter and Wendy dancing. _Peter...Wendy...squish them together and you get..._

"Pendy."

Ariel ground her trident. _Pendy?_ _Where had that come from? And how had it popped so naturally from her mouth?_ Inexplicably, Ariel looked up. She scanned the stars, half expecting the answer to unfurl overhead, like a billboard sign or chapter title. No answer came. Ariel wondered: _Pendy. Had that thought even been hers?_

"Weird." she finally decided. Shrugging her concern, Ariel trudged for Pirate's Point. She shimmied the drainpipe, crawled through Jim's window, snugged under the covers –

"Hey." Jim adjusted as Ariel wrapped herself in his arms. "Missed you babe."

Ariel smiled. She stroked Jim's hair.

Then she giggled. "Jariel."

"What?" murmured Jim.

Ariel pattered her feet. "If you smush our names together, you get Jariel. _Jim_ plus _Ariel_...that equals _Jariel_. You know..." Ariel rubbed his nose. "Just like _Peter_ plus _Wendy_ equals _Pendy_! Neat huh? I have no idea why I thought of that!"

Jim smiled quizzically. "Maybe it's wedding fever?" he suggested, hand resting on her stomach. He pressed, feeling for a tiny heartbeat. "Or maybe it's... something else?"

"Could be..." Ariel's breath slowed. "Who knows..."

Jim was silent. Abruptly, he spoke. "Ariel...Ariel there's something I have to ask y...Ariel? Ariel?"

Ariel was asleep.

Jim did not wake her. As Sandman sprinkled the last of his dreamsand, Jim cherished his last moments with Ariel – that is, the moments they would share alone. Tomorrow, King Arthur would give Fantasia to the Otherland, Wendy Darling would marry Peter Pan, and Amalthea would become queen. The happy, hectic day would end in heartbreak: when Arthur and Amalthea married, the guardians would return to their realms.

Jim smoothed Ariel's stomach, searching for life inside her. If Ariel was pregnant, Jim was none the wiser. Ariel hadn't affirmed or denied either way. He would just have to wait. Wait in agony...

"And pray." Jim curled over Ariel. Reaching under her pillow, he withdrew an engagement ring. The ring was golden (like coral) and silver (like ocean waves), and inset with a piece of the Wishing Star.

Jim held the ring at Ariel's fingertip. Then, he tucked it away.

"I've got a better idea." Jim kissed Ariel in her sleep "So everyone will know I'm part of your world."

Jim rest with his future bride. "Jariel. Where did she think of that?"

Again no one answered.

But -

Outside, illuminated by a thin laptop light, someone typed by the Western Fantasian Sea.


	144. Chapter 144: Fantasia Given

**Chapter 144: Fantasia Given**

They came from the east. They came from the west. They came from the north, south, and every place between. They came to Camelot for the giving of Fantasia.

King Arthur beheld the gathering. It was so crowded, people were standing on the moon! But King Arthur studied every Fantasian, Otherlander, ogre, Viking, and dragon. He saw their differences and smiled. His adventures had reemphasized an important truism: _from variety, tremendous opportunity grows_.

Arthur believed the truism would hold for the Otherland and Fantasia. He believed the two countries could unite. He believed the ancient enemies would merge into a powerful kingdom.

True, the metamorphosis would take time. And (like any relationship) it would take compromise and understanding. But King Arthur was undaunted. In fact, he could not wait.

So with Excalibur at his side, King Arthur crowned his queen. Master Merlin observed from the front, Headmaster Mickey observed from the back, and the guardians observed bilaterally (North, Tooth, Bunny, Sandman, and Jack to the left; Ariel, Peter, Wendy, and Jim to the right). Amalthea represented the Otherland. Arthur represented Fantasia. Their union represented an acceptance of 'the Others' and the giving of Fantasia. All allegiances were sworn to King Arthur and Queen Amalthea.

And heavens – when Arthur and Amalthea kissed? Take my word: lots of cheering. Had Jim not already rattled it, the Wishing Star would have fallen from the sky.

"Okay!" Arthur twirled Amalthea behind castle walls. He kissed her three times for good luck, and once more because three was not enough. "We did it Allie! We did it! Now! Time for the Darling – Pan wedding, and a happily ever after for all!"

"Perhaps not Wart."

Arthur and Amalthea turned. Their spirits tempered as Master Merlin (accompanied by Headmaster Mickey) approached. They were grim. Very grim.

"What is it?" Arthur studied his mentors. He squeezed Amalthea's hand as their expressions darkened. "What do you mean _perhaps not_? _Perhaps not_ what?"

"Perhaps…" Master Merlin locked the door. He flicked his wand, drawing the blinds. "Perhaps it is impractical and _impossible_ for you to wish a happily ever after for all."

Arthur frowned. As did Amalthea.

"What do you mean?" they asked.

Master Merlin hesitated to speak, fearing an omniscient presence would hear.

So Headmaster Mickey divulged.

"Your Majesty…. I've seen…a storyteller."


	145. Chapter 145: Father of the Bride

**Chapter 145: Father of the Bride**

Peter was not picky insomuch as he was demanding. Like a child, he had specific tastes. So when Peter said "I want a big wedding" the demand was met. _Everyone_ was invited. That is, everyone but Tinkerbell and Captain Eric. Tinkerbell had been jailed (for one week) for conspiring with Pitch. Captain Eric couldn't attend because Ariel said so. Girl with a trident – always best to obey.

The Darling-Pan wedding was _incredibly_ short noticed, but their friends were _incredibly_ prepared. Ariel and Astrid made Wendy's wedding dress a priority, and Jim had already supplied Peter with her ring. That is, he supplied the Wishing Star fragment. Peter supplied the rest – he used a cloud's silver lining for their wedding bands.

Oh yeah. All clouds have a silver lining. Skyworld perk.

The rest was easy. King Arthur and Queen Amalthea donated their castle for the wedding venue, Vinny's Flower Shop donated flowers, Tony's Restaurant donated food, Aladdin donated Prince Ali DJ Services, Lilo took pictures, Rapunzel did hair, Schmendrick decorated (Merlin supervised), and Hiccup promised dragon-fireworks for the reception.

It was an upbeat day. The whole kingdom was excited.

The whole kingdom…except Jim.

Jim's excitement was overshadowed by two details. First, the realms were closing; by tomorrow the guardians would leave. And second, the Darling Pan wedding was moments away; Wendy was leaving him too.

"This is not the end." Sarah assured, weaving through the wedding party. Wendy and Peter hadn't 'themed' their wedding, but everyone had dressed along the green-blue spectrum. Jim scanned the bridesmaids for Ariel, but she was missing – likely to help Wendy prepare.

"Marriages bring families _together_." Sarah continued, leading Jim to Wendy's designated dressing room. She smiled as Edna Mode emerged from inside. "Not split them apart. You and Wendy have a tremendous bond. Have faith in that, sweetheart. Wendy wouldn't lose you for the world."

Jim nodded, but remained cynical. "Sure. Whatever. Don't really care, I just want her to be happy."

"Then I would stop worrying." Sarah dictated. "Because Wendy likes things _just so_. And she won't be happy without you."

Jim nodded again, but this time distractedly. Ariel had emerged from Wendy's dressing room, and her baby blue strapless was mouthwatering. Her hair was unchanged (loose, a little wind swept), but her expression was extra sparkly. Jim wondered why she was glowing, but it didn't matter. When Ariel finally reached him, Jim had fallen in love ten times over.

"Hey babe." Jim and Ariel embraced. As Sarah departed, Jim traced Ariel's neck. Captain Hook's scale-shaped scars bumped beneath his fingers. Jim darkened. For once he agreed with Peter – Captain Hook was a dirty rotten codfish. And if he _was_ still alive, he needed to die. For real.

Ariel nosed into Jim. "What's the matter, grumpy gills?"

Jim refocused. "Nothing. Just…" Fingers interweaving, Jim spread Ariel's arms. "You look gorgeous. Unbelievable. I thought the maid of honor wasn't supposed to outshine the bride."

Ariel swayed joyfully, pleased with the compliment. Still, with a secret smile, she ushered Jim inside Wendy's dressing room. "Wait till you see her, Jim. She's…well just wait till you see her."

Jim's stomach fluttered at Ariel's hint. But when he saw Wendy, his breath disappeared.

"Wen…"

Wendy turned before a four-panel mirror. Her smile reflected across the glass, but Jim hardly recognized her. She wore a pure white dress, laced with pink ribbon. The ribbon wove tightly down her back, but tapered as the skirt draped her silhouette. Her hair was elegantly styled. Instead of a veil, Wendy wore tiny pink flowers. And on her finger, was a tiny sparkle: her engagement ring.

Wendy had transformed. She looked older, adult. Less like the little girl he called best friend, and more like a woman ready to marry the man she loved.

Jim was speechless. He as almost scared.

Thankfully, Wendy spoke.

"Do I look alright?"

Jim was incredulous that she even had to ask.

"You look…Wen you look _beautiful_. But…"

He joined Wendy at the mirror. Taking the pink ribbon, he began tying a bow. "Sorry just…needs a little…"

Wendy smiled as he perfected. "Thank you."

"Well you're Wendy. You need a bow. Even though it's pink." Jim glanced in the mirror. "Pretty color. Grown up color. For you."

Wendy nodded. She smoothed the ribbon, its color reminiscent of the pink negligee she'd worn to romance Peter. Jim was right. Pink was a grown up color. Very grown up.

Wendy quieted.

Jim fastened the bow. "You okay?"

She met his gaze through the mirror. "Are you?"

"Me? Sure. Never better. I'm happy for you."

"No." Wendy turned. "Are you alright with _this_? Me. Peter. You. I. Us? And don't you dare lie to me, because it won't work." She hardened, just a touch. "I can read you like a book, James Pleaides. So tell me the truth. Jim – are you alright with _this_?"

Jim was silent. Then he smiled.

"No. I'm not okay with this. Of course I'm not. No one can understand you as I can. No one can take care of you as I can. No one sees you as I see you. No one ever will. But…" he brushed her cheek. "Peter was willing to fight me for the chance. So I'll give him a shot. After all, he loves you. And I can't blame him. Can't blame him at all."

Wedding bells tolled as Jim and Wendy embraced.

Then they said something neither had spoken before. The exchange was unconditional (both knew it to be true); but it was _so_ nice to hear.

"I love you Jim Hawkins." whispered Wendy.

Jim smiled. "I love you too. Wendy Moria Angela…Pan."

Somehow they pulled apart. Oddly enough, the separation strengthened their bond. The magical moment turned into a memory as they prepared for the next adventure. Jim handed Wendy her bouquet. Wendy took his arm. They arrived at the Darling-Pan wedding together.

"Just one favor." Before entering, Jim unpocketed Ariel's ring. "It's a secret…a surprise…for Ariel." He tapped Wendy's bouquet. "Wanna help?"

Wendy connected the dots. "Oh Jim! What are best friends for?"

Jim grinned. "Best friends forever?"

Wendy offered her bouquet. She beamed as Jim tinkered with petals, stems, and ring. "Forever and ever."

 **… … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … …**

If there was music, Jim did not hear. If the guests were smiling, Jim did not notice. If he staggered a step, Jim didn't care.

Walking down the wedding aisle, bringing Wendy to Peter, was the _hardest_ journey of his life.

But as they proceeded, Jim wondered: _Had they been friends all this time…for this moment?_ For Wendy to leave Jim with Ariel, the girl who loved him? For Jim to give Wendy to Peter, the boy who loved her? To separate knowing that the other was healed, and that their hearts were _finally_ strong enough to face the greatest adventure of all: love?

It was a comforting thought.

They ascended the aisle, pausing reverently before family and friends.

Then they departed. Jim gave Wendy to Peter Pan. And it was _that_ moment, when Wendy left his side, that Jim cried. Just one tear, celebrating everything they meant to each other and would continue to mean.

It hurt him a little, but Jim was heartened that Wendy didn't look back. She was confident. She was happy. She was ready. And she couldn't stop smiling as Peter took her little hands.

"Pst! Wendy!" Peter squeezed. His fingers danced. "Wendy we're getting married!"

Wendy glowed. "I'm excited."

"Me too!"

"Shh! Not so loud silly boy! Oh but Peter you look dashing."

"Ha." Peter winked. He rubbed her ring. "I know."

Wendy laughed as King Arthur, Queen Amalthea, Master Merlin, and Headmaster Mickey approached. "Oh Peter. I love you."

"Oh Wendy." Peter bounced with happiness. "I love you too."

The ceremony was beautiful. As King Arthur recited the wedding rites, Headmaster Mickey scripted their vows in The Once Upon A Time book. Master Merlin supervised with Archimedes, and the two old friends exchanged grins as Arthur glanced intermittently at Amalthea, just to make sure she was still looking at him. The ceremony carried into the evening, dwindled with the setting sun, and finally –

"By the Wishing Star above," Arthur observed the final sacraments. "I betroth thee forever more Peter and Wendy Pan. Mr. and Mrs. Husband and wife. For longer than forever. So…Peter."

Arthur gestured. "Peter. You may now kiss the – "

Wendy moved. Before Arthur had finished, she kissed her startled but _extremely_ happy husband.

The onlookers approved. The Fantasians laughed. The Otherlanders cheered.

"Way to go Wendy Moria." Jim clapped contentedly. He smiled as Peter spun Wendy into his arms, crowing admits the applause. "Way to go."

"Aye. And bout time too!" Silver nudged Ariel and Jim. "Time te party."

"Ohhhhh yeah! My two favorite words!" Sinbad kissed Sarah. " _Wedding reception_! Silver my man you are on par! Time to parrrrtayyyy!"

It was not an exaggeration. It was an understatement.

A big one.

For that's when _I_ appeared.

 **… … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … …**

 ** **sultal's note: This is a quote from "Peter Pan" by James Barrie: "**** _ ** **Wendy was married in****_ _ ** **white with a pink sash. It is strange to think that Peter did not alight in the church and forbid the****_ _ ** **banns."****_


	146. Chapter 146: The Wedding Reception

**Chapter 146: The Wedding Reception**

"Attention! Attention! Hey!" Flynn waved his frying pan. "Hey I'm trying to give a toast here!"

No one listened. But no one could hear. The castle was _packed_. Wedding guests overpopulated the venue, forcing the Fantasians and Otherlanders to intermingle (which King Arthur wholeheartedly supported).

Peter and Wendy were bombarded with handshakes, smiles, kisses and congratulations. Peter _adored_ the attention. He held Wendy like a trophy, refusing to let her drift and reminding every well-wisher " _We're married_!" Wendy would laugh. Peter would kiss her. Ariel and Jim would happily shake their heads. So stinking cute.

The reception itself was nothing special. True, King Arthur had donated his castle for the occasion, but the party was unpretentious (much to the Triton sisters' chagrin). The décor was simple. The desserts were good. The champagne was followed by food. The food was followed again by champagne. Lilo snapped pictures with Nani's phone. Aladdin DJ'd.

Again, it was a modest wedding reception – nothing special.

The special part was the _people_. Friends and family made the wedding remarkable (and therefore memorable). Wendy and Peter's receiving line wrapped around the castle, and everyone shared a kind word with the newlyweds. Fantasians laughed and cried. Jack and Elsa sang carols. Dragons roasted the chocolate fondue. The Vikings cleared the dance floor.

And Flynn _tried_ to give his toast!

"Yo, yo yo! Best man talking!" Flynn hopped for attention. Ruffnutt and Tuffnutt snickered as his frying pan clanked the wall. "Hey! HEY everybody listen up! I'm trying to give a sappy, sentimental speech here –"

Rapunzel stuck two fingers in her mouth. Bracing her baby bump, she whistled.

The noise dimmed. The merriment died. The wedding reception turned to Flynn.

"Thank you!" Flynn glared at the lingering whisperers. Arm on Rapunzel's chair, he raised a glass. "I would like to propose a toast to my buddy Pan the Man! Pete, you've _finally_ won your little lady, and I know it's a dream come true! And Wendy...well at least you got a nice dress out of the deal!"

The crowd chuckled. Aladdin went " _ba-da tunk_!"

"But seriously," Flynn bypassed the punchline, "Wendy, you're getting a hell of a guy. Peter is my best bro, my fellow Lost Boy. He's done so many incredible things, it's impossible to name them all. But the _best_ thing Peter has ever done...and he told me so himself...is fall in love with you. So..."

Flynn tipped his glass. "I propose a toast to Mr. and Mrs. Pan. Congrats Pete. Love ya bro."

Tumultuous applause. It was a bro-moment for the ages. Even the Vikings cried.

But Flynn wasn't through! He invited Peter and Wendy to their first dance as husband and wife. The arrangement was charming as it was romantic. Peter and Wendy danced to _It's Fine By Me If You Never Leave_. They were giddy as children but steadfast as a golden anniversary. The dance ended with a photo-finish pirouette and a kiss to shame all contenders. Peter rest Wendy across his knee, held her nose-to-nose, and Lilo photographed the moment as they kissed.

Even Jim had to admit: Wendy and Peter were perfect together. Absolutely perfect.

After the dance, Ariel launched her Maid of Honor speech. Expectations for a lengthy speech were high, but Ariel cut it short.

Surprisingly short.

Holding her trident like a microphone, Ariel beamed at the crowed and said,

"I'm actually going to let Peter take this one! Mr. Pan?"

Peter fluttered into the spotlight. He smiled confidently at the pleasantly confused faces.

"Thank you Ariel, you're an awesome MOH! Maid of Honor to the max! Everybody, clap it up for the awesomest little mermaid!"

Peter applauded, prompting the guests to follow. Everyone clapped, despite their confusion. But one thing was evident: Peter and Ariel were co-conspiring.

Wendy and Jim made eye contact. Wendy cocked her head questionably. Jim shrugged. Silently deciding they had no idea what Peter and Ariel were plotting, Wendy and Jim joined the applause. Ariel and Peter were poor on patience and big on surprises - their scheme would surface soon enough.

Peter waved for silence.

"This girl," he began, kissing Wendy's fingers. "This woman ...is perfect. I love her for longer than forever, and that's an awfully long time. She is my better half and my whole world. So... at this time... I would like to thank the man that kept her safe, until the time that I could."

Peter nodded to Aladdin, cueing the music. Aladdin selected the song. As a steady beat played, Peter crossed the dance floor.

"This is the last time I will _ever_ let this happen..." Peter offered Wendy to Jim, "But I guess a father-daughter dance is traditional. So Jim... Wendy... go ahead. Ariel and I picked this song with you two in mind."

Ariel urged Jim. Peter urged Wendy. Eventually (and with a little friendly persuasion) Jim and Wendy surrendered. The song began. And from the first word, the lyrics were quintessentially 'Wendy and Jim.'

 _Hands, put your empty hands in mine_

 _And scars, show me all the scars you hide_

 _And hey, if your wings are broken_

 _Please take mine so yours can open, too_

 _'Cause I'm gonna stand by you_

They reached center stage. Jim looked at Wendy. Wendy looked at Jim. They laughed at each other's dismay.

"Yeah..." Jim scruffed his rattail. "This'll be rich."

Wendy motioned back, indicating the past. "Do you remember the first time we tried this?"

"Dancing?"

" _Loosely_ dancing, yes. We failed miserably. Do you remember?"

"Of course." Jim bowed. "First time watching _Star Wars_. Pajamas. Christmas Eve. You were eleven. I was twelve."

"Indeed." Wendy curtsied, accepting Jim's hand. "You played a _Star Wars_ melody."

"Then I asked you to danced."

"Then you _ordered_ me to dance!"

"Hey I had to!" Jim took her waist. "You were sad."

"True." Wendy gathered her dress. "But I wasn't sad for long. After all, I had you."

"Yeah..." Jim shivered as Wendy pressed against him. "But not anymore. Now you've got Peter...and I've got Ariel... and we're leaving Fantasia... maybe forever."

Wendy didn't respond, although she shivered too. Neither understood the reaction, nor why the shiver touched their hearts.

But as the song built, the answer came.

 _Oh, tears make kaleidoscopes in your eyes_

 _And hurt, I know you're hurting, but so am I_

 _And, love, if your wings are broken_

 _Borrow mine 'til yours can open, too_

 _'Cause I'm gonna stand by you_

 _Of course._ Wendy and Jim thought. _Why were they nervous? They had each other, forever and always, so everything was okay. Bittersweet. But definitely okay._

"Okay Wen." Jim spun Wendy as the music exploded. "Let's fuck this shit."

Wendy laughed through the remainder of the song. Of course she reprimanded his language, and of course Jim apologized. They danced like fools until Ariel and Peter joined, _mercifully_ saving them from another misstep. The four friends danced. They clapped to the beat, stomped their feet, and sang along.

 _Even if we're breaking down, we can find a way to break through_

 _Even if we can't find heaven, I'll walk through Hell with you_

 _Love, you're not alone, 'cause I'm gonna stand by you_

 _Even if we can't find heaven, I'm gonna stand by you_

 _Even if we can't find heaven, I'll walk through Hell with you_

 _Love, you're not alone, 'cause I'm gonna stand by you_

 _Love, you're not alone, 'cause I'm gonna stand by you_

The 'father daughter dance' was a triumph. Peter congratulated himself for allowing it, and gladly accepted praise for the gesture. However, Peter was surprised when Jim (goaded by Ariel, Michael and John), handed him a thick envelope and said, "Here. This is for you and Wen."

"It's a present!" Michael exclaimed, skipping between Sarah and John. "A wedding present!"

"A _last minute_ wedding present." added John, "But Jim only thought of it last night. Very irksome, I despise impromptu spending. I didn't have a _considerable_ amount of time to prepare, but I think you'll find these arrangements tolerable and _extremely_ ship-shape -"

"Just open it!" Ariel squealed. "Open it Peter! Open it!"

Peter waited for Wendy before tearing the seal (John cringed). Discarding the envelope (John cringed again), he unfolded a legal document. Peter frowned, a bit disappointed that the 'surprise' was (1) not a gift card, (2) not honeymoon tickets, and (3) a boring adult-ish piece of paper.

However, Peter was feeling generous. Moreover, Wendy seemed interested in the document. Deciding to impress Wendy, Peter studied the document.

"Title deed..." Peter murmured, reading decorative script. Ignorant to the title's meaning, he halfheartedly continued. "This is to certify that Mr. and Mrs. Peter Pan of _1953 Kensington Avenue, Center-Point Sector, Fantasia_ , are now registered as the absolute proprietors of the land in the above mentioned title..."

Peter stopped, suddenly realizing what he was reading.

"It's..." Peter revisited the document. He elevated it, like gold. "Wendy...it's your house. They bought us your house. We..."

Peter looked at Ariel and Jim. He choked. "We have a _home_."

Jim smiled as Wendy covered her mouth. They made eye contact, and he knew she was going to cry. Reaching for John's pocket square, Jim passed Wendy the handkerchief. "Can I have your room?"

Needless to say, Wendy cried. But it was _Peter_ that embraced Jim. The embrace was fleeting, but as he clasped Jim's arm, Peter whispered. " _Thank you_."

It was a surprising moment. And that moment was one of many. The night was filled with surprises, but three in particular.

The first surprise was when Ariel caught Wendy's bouquet. Per Fantasian tradition, the bride tosses her wedding flowers to a flock of single ladies, all of whom compete in catching it. Per tradition, the lady that catches the bouquet will be next to marry.

Well, when Wendy threw her bouquet, she cheated. Keeping one eye open (traditionally, the bride is blindfolded), she hurled the bouquet at Ariel. Ariel was a little surprised (Sinbad wasn't; he knew Wendy had an arm), and fumbled to save the catch. But as she fumbled, she saw a sparkle.

Picking through the petals and overturning the leaves, Ariel found an engagement ring. The ring twinkled like a star. It dangled from the bouquet, fastened by a piece of celestial thread.

"Oh my..." Ariel looked directly at Jim. "Oh my gosh!? Jim!"

Jim smiled. He smiled an adorable, unprecedented, bashful smile. He was so delighted by Ariel's reaction, he almost forgot to propose. Luckily, Silver shoved Jim to his knees. Sinbad and Sarah ushered Ariel forward, and Admiral Triton watched distantly as Jim proposed.

No one heard Jim's proposal, but they saw the magic of his pledge. Ariel's happiness warmed the room. Her smile would have healed a broken heart. She kissed Jim long before he finished.

That was the first surprise.

The second surprise was Ariel's. Immediately after Jim's proposal, Ariel whispered in his ear. Again, no one heard what Ariel said.

However, they _did_ see Jim snap upright, utterly alarmed. For a moment he stared at Ariel. Then he demanded clarification. Ariel happily complied. Overjoyed, Jim kissed Ariel's stomach. He wept to their child, growing inside her womb.

Yes. Ariel was pregnant. She and Jim were expecting a baby. That was the second surprise.

But the third surprise...

"Well holy crow."

Headmaster Mickey stiffened. He spun, tail whipping left to right.

"Hello?" Headmaster Mickey searched. "Did anybody hear that?"

No one had. The reception was ending. Some of the guests were dancing; others were draining Champagne; but most were bidding Wendy and Peter farewell. Peter had scooped Wendy romantically into the air, but Headmaster Mickey ignored their departure. He waded through the wedding guests, ears pricked and eyes wide.

"Mickey?" Mistress Minnie trailed the headmaster. She peered at his twitchy tail. _Uh oh. A twitchy tail – the stress spot for mice._ "Mickey baby, what's wrong?"

Headmaster Mickey was silent. He scanned the wedding guests, focusing momentarily on the Vikings. Ruffnutt, Tuffnutt, Snoutlout, Fishlegs, Astrid, and Hiccup were still celebrating. The dragons were baying. Fishlegs was blaring a crazy mix of acapella-pop, Celtic scream-o, and traditional Viking music. Sarah and Sinbad were dancing with Astrid and Hiccup. Rapunzel and Flynn joined. Crysta and Pips appeared. Ruffnutt captured Eret Son of Eret. Merida and Robin bounced into the throng, too drunk to remember their Viking grudge. And Tuffnutt was jamming... with a strange girl.

Headmaster Mickey frowned.

The girl was neither Fantasian nor Otherlander. She was...something else. Something unidentifiable. That is, she was unidentifiable until Headmaster Mickey saw big green eyes and a laptop under her arm.

"It's her!" Headmaster Mickey jumped twice his height. "Merlin! King Arthur! It's her! It's her! It's s - "

It happened fast, almost too fast to catch. As Headmaster Mickey squeaked, the mysterious girl opened her laptop. She typed, fingers flying. She wacked the ENTER key. Then, eyes on the headmaster, she nodded to the sky.

BAM.

Fireworks exploded. They were dazzling! Brilliant! Out of this world! In fact, the fireworks were _blinding_. So blinding, Headmaster Mickey lost sight of the mysterious girl as she ran from the castle, laptop under her arm.

Headmaster Mickey shuddered as the crowd cheered. When Master Merlin demanded an explanation for his caterwauling, the little mouse could hardly breath.

"The storyteller. She's here." Headmaster Mickey gazed after the guardians. Peter, Ariel, Wendy, and Jim. Four friends. Blessed in love. Cursed for eternity.

"But she promised." Headmaster Mickey shook his head. "The story promised that everything world turn out alright. She promised a happily ever after..."

Headmaster Mickey faded. Then his gazed pulled to the Black Hole.

 _Storytellers,_ Merlin had said, _are villains._

Headmaster Mickey turned to the wizard.

"Find King Arthur and Queen Amalthea. They must be wed. _Now_."

* * *

 **... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ...**

 **sultal's note: song recommended by LadyAnne23 (fanfiction)/Serindiel (wattpad). She's awesome folks, a very clear, meticulous writer. Check out her stuff!**


	147. Chapter 147: Cloud Nine

**Chapter 147: Cloud Nine**

King Arthur and Queen Amalthea did _not_ stay for the entire wedding reception. They'd had a long day of royal obligation, and both were exhausted. Arthur and Amalthea were introverts, and they just wanted to be introverted together.

So they left. Arthur stole a plate of cookies, Amalthea smuggled a bottle of Champagne, and then they fled! The escape was very exciting but they didn't go far. Arthur brought Amalthea to the castle's backyard.

The backyard was actually located in the Otherland (whilst the front yard was located in Fantasia). The craggy terrain had been reconstructed into a beautiful, stone terrace. The terrace was tiered, and each tier sported a telescope for stargazing, giving the area a sense of 'openness.'

The openness _also_ meant that the backyard wasn't terribly private. Wedding guests spied on Arthur and Amalthea from the castle windows, hoping to catch a kiss. The lack of privacy was a burden, but one they were willing to endure.

Besides, the night wasn't completely spoiled: the terrace was 'out of earshot.' Arthur and Amalthea took full advantage of that luxury. They talked about everything.

"This isn't bad at all!" Arthur passed the Champagne after a second sip. "Very bubbly."

Amalthea smiled over the glass. "I forgot you've never had Champagne before."

"That's right!" Arthur shrugged happily. "I'm a little underage."

"My dear king you are severely underage. By _several_ years."

" _Two_ years. Two- _ish_. My twentieth birthday is coming up on January first, New Years Day! Then _your_ birthday is ten days later on January eleventh."

"That is correct. And _interesting_."

"Interesting? How so? Want a cookie?"

"January eleventh is interesting..." Amalthea accepted an Italian cookie. "Because _this_ year, my birth _date_ will be a birth _day_."

"Is there a difference?"

"Yes. A birth _date_ is just a marker, an ordinary day, a grain of sand amongst many. But a birth _day_ would be analogous to a diamond."

"Diamond?"

"Like a diamond in the sands of time."

"So if I understand you correctly..." Arthur restated. " _This_ year your birth _date_ is special enough to be a birth _day_?"

"Correct."

"Why?" Arthur perked. "Because of me?"

"In part." said Amalthea, touching the red mark on her forehead. "You are the reason I am alive. Your wish brought me back to life. However, your wish also ended my immortality."

"It did?"

"Yes. Odette and Schmendrick said you wished to _grow old_ with me. Well, if I am to grow old with you, then I cannot be immortal." Amalthea touched her chest. "I've never had a reason to celebrate my birthday. When time is cheap, age becomes meaningless. But now, my time is limited. I can feel this body dying around me. Every second has enormous value. So this year on January eleventh..."

Amalthea ate her cookie. "I will celebrate."

November leaves crackled across the moon. Arthur studied the foliage as he contemplated immortality and time. Amalthea was a straightforward girl, and her happiness seemed sincere. But Arthur couldn't help feeling sad. And guilty.

"I didn't mean to wish away your immortality..." he began.

Amalthea pressed a finger to his lips. Then she kissed him. When the kiss was through (several minutes later), Amalthea gently reassured her king.

"I would live only one more day, if it was with you. Fear not..." Amalthea smiled knowingly. "We will live long. Our lives will be magically extended. As will our childrens'."

"Yes," Arthur argued. "But remember you have an immortal sister. Odette will miss you when you're gone and it will be all my ... Did you say children?"

Amalthea laughed at Arthur's double take. "Do you like the name Branwyn?" she asked, offering half her cookie.

Arthur blinked, cookie in hand. "Is... that's for a girl, right?"

"Or boy."

"Boy? But Branwyn's a girl name."

"Unisex."

"Really?"

"Well someone has to start the trend. I like the name Branwyn."

"Allie –"

"It means beautiful raven."

"Allie –"

"And if Branwyn was a boy, I'm sure you'd give him a nickname, and I'm sure the nickname would be Bran."

"Allie, Allie, Allie!" Arthur playfully wrung his crown. "We're not even _married_ yet!"

POOF.

"And that's _all_ about to change!" Master Merlin charged through blue smoke, the royal wedding party hot on his heels. As he and Archimedes hauled Arthur upright, Headmaster Mickey, Mistress Minnie, Odette, and Schmendrick assisted Amalthea. Arthur objected (especially when Schmendrick smushed the cookies), but Master Merlin was in a nonnegotiable mood.

"Stop complaining! Stand up straight! Jehoshaphat boy, buff up that crown and prepare for the happiest moment of your life! Amalthea, stand next to Arthur! Try to look dreamy! You're about to get married!"

"Merlin-?" Arthur maneuvered from Archimedes. "What's this about? Why the rush? Allie and I can't get married yet! The moment we marry, the guardians will be sent back to their realms –"

"The guardians can suffer!" Merlin shoved Arthur at Amalthea. He clapped, conjuring two Celtic wedding bands. "Your _happily ever after_ matters more to the kingdom! You're getting married RIGHT NOW! No _ifs_ , _ands_ , or _buts_!"

"But –"

"I said no ifs, ands, or buts!"

"But – "

"The storyteller is _here_ , Wart!" Merlin squeezed Arthur's shoulder. "Headmaster Mickey saw her, she was at the wedding reception, typing on a magical something-miga-go!"

"Laptop." Headmaster Mickey corrected.

"The point!" Merlin said, wand crackling in his urgency. "Is that the storyteller is in Fantasia! She's here, and she has the power to invade our lives!"

Arthur considered. He glanced doubtfully at Amalthea, and then at the Black Hole.

"Don't you think the storyteller would have done something by now?" he asked.

"What what?" Merlin snapped.

"If the storyteller is malicious..." Arthur explained, "Don't you think she would have rewritten our story already? Or maybe...maybe _this_ is the revision? Maybe this, what we're doing, what we're saying, what we're thinking...was the plan all along. So...then..."

Arthur pondered. Had he a beard, he would have stroked it. But he was beardless, so he rubbed a smooth jawline instead.

Abruptly, he nodded.

"Yes. Okay. Let's do it."

" _It_?" Archimedes grouched. "It, what it?"

"Let's get married." Arthur replied, taking Amalthea's hands. "This storyteller may be a meddler, but she obviously has a plot in mind. And if it involves my marriage to the most unbelievable girl in the universe...well then...I salute her decision. Write on story teller. Write on."

Amalthea agreed. "Keep writing." she added as Arthur kissed the scar on her forehead. "Let's be married, before the chapter is done."

The company condensed. Merlin prepared the wedding vows.

Only Mistress Minnie lingered. Sniffing into her handkerchief, she sympathized the guardians as King Arthur prepared to send them to their realms. The moment he and Amalthea married, the guardians would leave. Goodness. They wouldn't even have time to say goodbye.

"Poor guardians." Mistress Minnie wiped a tear. "Poor Ariel. Poor Peter. Poor Wendy. Poor Jim."

… … … … … … .. … .. … … … … … … … .. … … … … … …. …

Ariel sighed dreamily. Then,

" _What_ _would I give...to live where you are? What would I pay...to stay here beside you? What would I do to see you... smiling at me_?"

Jim had never heard Ariel sing. But now he didn't want her to stop. Her voice was unbelievable. There was a haunting, intimate quality to her singing. It was almost like Ariel was whispering in his ear. It was beautiful. Absolutely beautiful.

Jim reclined against the bed board, Ariel's head in his lap. They had retired to Pirate's Point, exhausted from the wedding but too excited for sleep. Jim's surprise proposal and Ariel's baby announcement fired their excitement. Ariel expressed her happiness with singing, while Jim stroked her hair. Transiently he would squeeze, give a little pull, then continue to stroke. In those moments, Ariel knew Jim was compressing his excitement; holding everything behind a small smile.

Ariel closed her eyes. She snuggled, inviting Jim to press her stomach. He did. His fingers tingled as he tried to connect with their unborn child. It was so cute. But it was also sad.

Ariel stopped singing. Jim tilted.

"What's wrong?"

Ariel shifted so she could see his face. Tracing his cheekbone, she sighed. "I love you."

Jim smiled, but pityingly. "I love you too. You and..." he patted. "The little guy."

"Little _guy_?" Ariel grinned. "Not a little _girl_?"

"Girls are cool."

"But you want a boy."

"Eh whatever. Girl or guy, I'm not wishing for one over the other."

"Liar."

"Ha."

"You want a boy first. Don't deny it!"

"Okay you got me..." Jim raised his arms. "I'd like an older boy, _if_ it's not too much trouble."

"Whatcha gonna give me if I give you a boy?"

"A night of passion so you can give me a girl."

They laughed, high fived, and fell into each other's arms.

They stopped as Admiral Triton rapped on the door.

"Ariel." Admiral Triton called, "This is your father. I know you're in there, so open the door. Have the courtesy not to run out the window...this time."

"Shit." Jim groaned as Ariel flounced out of bed. Reluctantly, he followed. "Why punish us tonight? It's our last night in Fantasia, we just want to be alone. We're not doing anything."

Ariel smacked his bottom. "We're not doing anything because we already did it!"

"Great rationale. Your dad'll love that."

"Don't worry, I'll explain everything. Daddy will listen to me."

"No it's okay babe – let me talk to him. After all, this is my fault. The damage is done." Jim unlocked the door. "What's the worst he can do?"

They found out. And they were shocked.

Admiral Triton was quiet when Jim opened the door. He offered little greeting, and did not comment on Jim's proposal or Ariel's pregnancy. He merely studied the pair, gauging their camaraderie as a sailor would study an apparent wind.

Finally, Admiral Triton spoke:

"She really does love him, doesn't she Sinbad?"

Sinbad appeared from the stairwell, Morph and Silver behind him and Sarah beside.

"Well,"answered Sinbad, "It's like I always say, Triton. Children have to be free to lead their own lives."

Silver nodded, in concurrence with the pirate code. Sarah rubbed her husband. " _You_ always say that? Bandit?"

Sinbad kissed Sarah. Then he winked at Jim. "Those are my two favorite words: _born free_."

Admiral Triton smoothed his wedding ring. The touch stirred a painful memory, forcing the admiral to pass several moments in reverence. When his voice returned, Admiral Triton sighed.

"Then I guess there's just one problem left."

Silver tipped his tricorn. "And what's that, Admiral?

Admiral Triton brushed Ariel's cheek. "How much I'm going to miss her. Mrs. Hawkins... The Once Upon A Time book? Please open to the next available page."

Admiral Triton adjoined Jim and Ariel's hands. "I have a wedding ceremony to perform. As a naval admiral, that is my legal right. As a father...and a father in law... that is my privilege."

Ariel realized what was happening long before Jim. Elated, she jumped into her father's arms.

"I love you daddy." she whispered, thanking him for everything he had done, and everything he was about to do. "I love you so much."

Admiral Triton smiled. Then, regaining his stateliness, he placed Ariel with Jim. For those witnessing, and by his vested authority, Admiral Triton married Ariel and Jim: the little mermaid and Sinbad's son.

… … … … … … .. … .. … … … … … … … .. … … … … … …. …

Skyworld was wonderful. It was more wonderful than Wendy imagined (even with Peter's boasting). There were castles on clouds, gigantic beanstalk ladders, and rainbow staircases that doubled as rainbow slides. Of course Peter wanted to play, and Wendy happily complied. Per Peter's invitation, she sat on his lap, and they twirled up and down the rainbows, laughing like children.

When the moon peaked, the rainbows dimmed. Peter tucked the rainbows under a cloud and announced it was time to go home (at least, the honeymoon suite). Wendy agreed. She was spent!

They flew to a cirrocumulus patch (small, puffy clouds at the tip of the sky). Peter informed Wendy that cirrocumulus clouds indicated "fair but cold" weather. Probably because winter was coming. Wendy congratulated Peter's meteorology adeptness. Peter accepted her praise.

A castle sat on the cirrocumulus clouds. It was a petite castle, hardly larger than a home, but Wendy as charmed. Peter knew she would be. And he knew she would squeal when he told her the castle's name.

"Cloud Nine."

Wendy was delighted. She told Peter he was very clever. Again, Peter accepted her praise. Thereafter, they crossed the cirrocumulus clouds to the castle, and retired for the night.

"This dress!" Wendy tugged her sash – the pink ribbon was tied in corset fashion, and the intricate lacing was impossible to unbound. Peter observed humorously as Wendy contorted and twisted, trying to unfasten the back of her dress.

"Goodness." Wendy smoothed her spine. The ribbon was irregularly snarled in places she'd pulled, and lax in places she'd been unable to reach. Turning to Peter (who was smirking behind his hand), she motioned across her waistline. "The tortures of being a lady."

Peter was gracious. "Oh sure, sure. You poor thing. We men just don't understand the hardships of ladies, do we?"

"Charming."

"I'm serious! Men are slobs! My socks don't even match."

"Hm." Wendy returned cheerfully to her ribbon. "You wore mismatched socks purposefully."

"Guilty as charged! Well observed Mrs. Pan."

"Thank you Mr. Pan."

"Don't worry, you look incredible. I could stare at you for hours. But if you want the dress off..." Peter wiggled his fingers. "I can always facilitate!"

Peter had spoken in jest. Even though they were married, he expected Wendy to remain celibate. In _no way_ did he believe Wendy would consummate their marriage tonight. She was still a little shy, still a little modest, and in many respects a little lost girl. Peter could wait.

That's not to say Peter didn't mind. Of course he minded. Of course he wanted to make love. Wendy's modesty was her greatest elegance, but also her greatest vice. Peter loved Wendy, so he respected her wishes, but oh god...he just wanted to rip off that dress.

So, imagine Peter's surprise when Wendy sat on an ottoman, turned her back, and motioned to the pink ribbon. "Do you mind?"

Peter blinked. "Do I mind...?"

She motioned again, this time twirling the ribbon. "Do you mind helping me unfasten? I know it's terribly tedious but –"

"No, no. Sure. It's no problem." Peter practically ran. His desires tingled as he touched her dress. They heightened with every unlaced grommet. They burned as he unraveled her bow.

Peter couldn't control himself. It was too much. He had to feel her. Just a little. Just an innocent, little -

Peter kissed Wendy's neck. He grazed gently, brushing her skin with delicate, ginger dots. It was only when Wendy softly cupped his ear, did Peter stop.

 _She touched him. She she scared? Did he scare her? Oh no, oh boy, um...think fast Peter...girls...girls...so hard to understand. Maybe he should...?_

"Well I'll... uh...sorry." Peter retreated. Hand to brow, he nodded at Wendy's nightgown. "I'll let you get changed. Take your time pretty. Call when you're ready."

Wendy cocked her head. "Peter?"

Peter turned. "Ye—"

He stopped. Dead.

Wendy had lifted her wedding dress. She smoothed the fabric above the ankle, over the knee, and to the hip. Peter's heartbeat escalated.

And then he saw it. _Finally_ , he saw the magical token.

Wendy's garter. It was pure white. Lacey. Floral patterned. Adorned with sparkly somethings that turned Peter to ice cream, syrup, and mush.

Wendy smiled. "Do you mind? Mr. Pan?"

Peter sunk. All of his daydreams and fantasies paled to Wendy's beauty. He was completely thunderstruck, even as he reached for her gorgeous, deliciously shaped leg...

"Oops."

Wendy dropped her skirt. She laughed at Peter's startle.

"Sorry. So silly..."

Peter looked up. Wendy was twinkling.

"I suppose..." she leaned, sleeve dripping off her shoulder. "You'll have to fetch it. That is...if you don't mind."

Peter grinned. "You little devil."

He picked her up. He kissed her dearly. And as her wedding dress slipped off, Peter carried Wendy to bed.

"And the angel takes flight."

It was a magical night, by many standards. Jim and Ariel married, uniting two families and sharing the joy of their unborn child. Wendy and Peter married, giving the gift of intimate love. Arthur and Amalthea married, promising to be each other's "for longer than forever."

And then, just like that, the spell was broken.

Because, as King Arthur commanded, long ago at the Round Table:

 _By royal decree I command that the guardians stay until I am married._

Well,

King Arthur married his queen.

And the guardians... drifting into a deep, magical sleep...

...returned to their realms.


	148. Chapter 148: Growing Up

**Chapter 148: Growing Up**

Wendy dreamt that Peter couldn't catch her. She dreamt that she was falling from the sky.

When she awoke, Wendy was in the Underworld.

"Peter? Peter where are... no."

She was laying in her old bed, dressed in her old clothes. Shadow was curled under the mattress. Pixie dust glowed in glass jars. Big B.E.N. reverberated across the steampunk metropolitan, signifying the midnight hour.

Everything had returned to normal. The realms had closed. Nothing had changed. Wendy felt the same old loneliness spreading inside her, exactly as it had long ago, when this whole adventure started...the night when she woke from a very bad dream.

Wendy sat at the edge of the bed. Shadow stirred as her feet touched, but made no other movement as Wendy strode to the window. He waited for Wendy to find her usual spot at corner ledge, cuddle aside the dark glass, and cry. But Shadow was surprised when she _stood_ to survey the panoramic view.

Wendy appraised her realm. Arms crossed and head high, she assessed each milestone and found room for improvement. Every achievement had untapped potential, especially with the resources of Seaworld, Skyworld, Outerworld, and the Otherland.

King Arthur had been right: realm separation was a barrier, but inter-realm collaboration was necessary to make Fantasia strong. And with an ambiguous Black Hole opening into Fantasia, King Arthur _especially_ depended on his guardians to fortify the planet. The guardians had to work together – even if they never saw each other again.

Wendy rubbed her heart. It hurt a little. Actually it hurt a lot. And oh goodness, how dearly she wanted to cry! But then she saw her wedding ring...a tiny sparkle on her finger, distal to her magical needle, spool, and thread.

"Well..." Wendy sighed, managing a small (but genuine) smile. "Time to grow up."

Wendy Darling did grow up. Accepting her fate, she said a little prayer for Ariel, Peter, and Jim, then squared her shoulders to the Underworld, determined to rattle the stars.

"Come along Shadow." Wendy opened the window. The city air glimmered with pixie dust as she ascended the ledge. "We're alone but loved. And we've got a lot of work to...Pips?"

Wendy backtracked as Pips bobbed before her window. He tipped a mail-carrier hat in one hand. With his other, Pips waved an envelop. It was addressed to her.

Wendy didn't know what to say. So she repeated herself.

"Pips?"

Pips crisped the envelope.

"Hiya toots!"


	149. Chapter 149: The End

**Chapter 149: The End**

Wendy was surprised, but not enough to condone the nickname.

"Pips?" she said, tracking the envelope as Pips crinkled and crisped. Distractedly, she refocused on reprimanding her uncle-in-law. "Pips my name is _not_ toots, _not_ babe, and _not_ bodacious. My name is –"

"Wendy Pan!" Pips announced, flicking the envelope under her nose. He angled the paper so Wendy could read the recipient box. "Mrs. Wendy Moria Angela Darling Pan! Geezum what a title! And I thought your name was excessive before the addition!"

Wendy batted the envelope. "Pips –"

"Uncle Pips."

"Uncle Pips how did you get into my Underworld?" Wendy snatched the envelope. "And why are you wearing that ridiculous hat?"

"Oh what – this?" Pips removed the mail carrier cap. After a loving buff, he tossed the brim, flipping the hat neatly onto his head. "King Arthur hired me!"

Wendy blinked. "Hired you?"

"I cautioned him against it."

"But why would King Arthur hire you?"

"Why?" Pips bopped his hat. "I'll tell you _why_! You are looking at the new _inter-realm liaison_ , tootsie! According to King Arthur, _I_ have been hired because you four – the guardians – _suck_ at communicating!"

Wendy straightened. "We do not – "

"As inter-realm liaison!" Pips continued, silencing Wendy. "It is my job to fly between the realms and deliver your messages! As inter-realm liaison, it is my job to open the communication gates! As inter-realm liaison, it is my job to keep you dweebs together, even when you're apart! Oh yeah..."

Pips massaged his bottom. "Y'all gonna to depend mighty heavily on this purty little behind, I can tell you _that_ right now. Toned butt muscles are _essential_ for aerodynamic flight! And with all this fancy flying I'm going to be doing between Underworld and Skyworld, and Underworld and Seaworld, and Underworld and Outerworld – "

"Pips." Wendy unsuccessfully interrupted.

"Take this letter for instance!" Pips tapped Wendy's envelop. "This little number is fresh from Outerworld."

"Outerwo..." Wendy looked at the envelope. "This letter is from Jim?"

Pips smacked his lips. "Open it up."

Wendy didn't wait. She ripped the envelope as if Jim were waiting for her under the seal. A paper scrap fluttered out. Wendy unfolded it hungrily; so hungrily, she almost tore through Jim's note.

 **Remember – we pinkie swore?**

 **Okay Wen, keep up your end of the deal. Five pages. Emotional time bomb. Go.**

"Pinkie swore...we pinkie swore..." Wendy reread, finger hovering over the blocky penmanship.

Distantly she remembered Jim comforting her at Pirate's Point. They had just attacked _The Princess_ , Shadow had just attacked them, Jim had just attacked Peter's intensions, and Wendy had crumbled under the stress. And when she crumbled, the real reason for her tears came out: Wendy didn't want to leave Fantasia. She didn't want to leave Ariel, Peter, or Jim. Not again.

So Jim had comforted her. In a very 'Jim-like-way,' he strategized and planned. And (being Jim), he found a solution. Wendy remembered, she could almost hear Jim's assurance:

 _"Okay Wen. This is what we're going to do. This time around, we're going to plan. When you're in the Underworld and I'm in Outerworld... I want you to write me a letter."_

Wendy smiled. She remembered Jim had spread his hands and said: _"I want you to be as heartbroken and girly as you can. Emotional time bomb – just explode. Give the letter to Morph, and Morph will bring it to me. I'll expect at least five pages. Got it_?"

Then they had pinkie sworn, promising to write. After that they had hugged. And now...

Wendy covered her mouth, _desperately_ trying not to cry. She looked at Pips.

Pips grinned. "Should I wait?"

"Yes!" Wendy exclaimed before running to her desk. Scavenging a pen and paper, she devotedly wrote the return message. She congratulated Jim for proposing to Ariel, and restated how proud she had been when he asked for her hand. She asked if Ariel wanted a big wedding. She wondered when it would be. She verified that Jon and Melody were still potential baby names. She told Jim about the Underworld. She asked about the Outerworld. She reminded him about the pixie-dust-Montressor-space-port collaboration they had previously discussed. She warned him to be wary of the Black Hole and careful of pirates. She asked about Mr. Silver. She asked about Morph. She said how much she loved him, how much she loved Ariel, and how much she MISSED Peter –

"Five pages!" Wendy presented the letter to Pips. "Front and back! And I have this little message for Ariel, and these pages for Peter! Pips could you deliver them? Could you deliver them _correctly_ without –"

"Sure thing, toots!" Pips saluted, letter in hand. "I'll bring these babies to their owners and fly down the responses as soon as they're written."

"Please do! And Pips..."

"Yeah?"

Wendy rubbed her wedding ring. Swiftly she kissed Pips' cheek. "Give that to Peter for me?"

Pips laughed. "He'll probably punch me, but sure! Anything for you toots."

"Oh dear. Pips, my name – "

"I know, I'm onnnnn it!" Pips flew out the window. "Welcome to the family Wendy Pan! I'll be back lickity split with those return messages! TTFN! Try not to cry!"

Pips departed, red hair fluffing under his blue cap. Wendy waved, already anxious for him to reappear with letters from Ariel, Peter, and Jim. Of course, she'd have to wait – hours, perhaps days – but Wendy already felt better. King Arthur had provided the guardians with communication! No more living in a bubble! No more wondering in solitude! No more living alone! Goodness. If King Arthur had been present, Wendy would have given him a kiss!

Pips looped through an overhead conduit and disappeared into Fantasia (via the magical oven). Wendy beamed through the open window, wondering how Jim would react to her letter. She decided that he would be marginally entertained. He'd probably even write back.

Wendy smiled, her sadness at ease. Intent on flying across the Underworld, she turned for a jar of pixie dust.

 _Knock. Knock. Knock._

Wendy stopped. The knock had come from downstairs, but she turned reactively to the window.

"Pips?"

No one was there. The window ledge was empty. Again someone knocked.

 _Knock. Knock. Knock._

Wendy frowned. She glanced at Big B.E.N. It was late, much too late for reports from the pixies or dwarves. The Underworld workers were off duty.

Was someone playing a trick? Wendy looked at Shadow. If Pips wasn't present, Shadow would be the next likely culprit (followed closely by Peter and Jack Frost). Shadow jumped, startled by Wendy's accusation. He pretended to be grievously mortified by her suspicion.

Again, someone knocked.

"For goodness sake." Wendy replaced the pixie dust. Convinced that Pips had returned to play a prank, she ran downstairs and opened the door.

Someone _was_ playing a prank. But it wasn't Pips.

" _Jim_?"

Jim smiled. Holding her letter (the one she had just written), he started to read. He must have been in an _outrageously_ good mood, because as he read, Jim mocked her accent. And he mocked it _hard_.

"Dear Jim. I'm so very, utterly, _magnificently_ happy you wrote. You really are the most wonderful friend in the entire universe." Jim looked up, accent gone. "Pun, very cute."

Wendy shook her head, smiling in disbelief. "The realms? The separation? Jim how are you here -?"

"Obviously I miss you –" Jim continued, resuming Wendy's accent. He swerved as Wendy reached to hug him, letter held aloft as he read. "—and I know you're terribly lonely without Ariel. I wish Peter were here with all my heart. However, it seems King Arthur has arranged for Pips to be our personal correspondent! Can you believe it? I think..."

Jim lifted a finger. In an accent thicker than Yorkshire pudding, he quoted the next line. "I think that was _perfectly_ _lovely_ of Arthur. We _really_ _ought_ to thank him. Don't you agree?"

Wendy lunged. "Jim!"

"I'm so happy you proposed to Ariel –" Jim was laughing, losing the accent as they dodged and danced. "—and I know you're going to be wonderful parents! Peter and I have talked about children –"

"Jim!"

"And I know you and Ariel have already selected names!"

"Jim!"

"But wouldn't it be perfect—"

"Jim!"

"—and can't you just imagine –"

"Jiiiiim!"

"—if we had children and they grew up to be the best of friends?"

"You're here!" Wendy jumped into Jim's arms. "You're here! You're here! Oh I don't know why and I don't know how, but James Pleiades _you are here_!"

Jim couldn't have laughed louder. He spun Wendy in circles, her letter forgotten but her message very much received. Morph, Shadow, and Pips spied from the open window. It was a heartwarming scene – Jim and Wendy celebrated like children at Christmas.

Fantasia's realms had opened. The magical barrier had lifted, and there was _nothing_ to stop Wendy and Jim from riding a pixie dust cloud to the surface.

In fact, the moment they lifted, both felt a tiny tug as King Arthur called their names.

"Peter...Ariel...Wendy...Jim..."

"King Arthur called us back!" Wendy wriggled aside Jim as the Underworld disappeared behind them. The darkness opened to the evening sky, and the starlight focused on the gates of Camelot.

Six "ish" people were waiting for them.

King Arthur was the first, and he stood at the head. Queen Amalthea was the second, and she stood to Arthur's right. Chief Hiccup Haddock (and Toothless) were the third "ish" and they stood to Arthur's left. Headmaster Mickey was the fourth, and he took the rear. And the remaining fifth and six persons –

"Peter!" Wendy cried as Jim shouted "Ariel!" They ran with all their hearts, sprinting past King Arthur and calling for Peter and Ariel. Their calls were reciprocated, and the four friends knotted themselves in the biggest bear hug imaginable.

King Arthur was patient. His young heart warmed as the guardians rejoice.

However, the guardians were in danger – and so was Arthur's kingdom. The story of Fantasia was ending, and Arthur was pleased with the outcome. Fantasia had _given_ itself to the Otherland. The guardians had _given_ each other their trust. King Arthur had _given_ himself to his queen. The meaning of giving – unselfishly and wholeheartedly giving – had become the foundation of Camelot.

It seemed the story was over. It seemed the story had ended happily ever after.

But as Master Merlin had observed,

"Storytellers are villains." Arthur glanced at Headmaster Mickey, certain the little mouse had heard him whisper. Arthur had an idea, but he was hesitant to take the risk. Rather, Arthur was hesitant for the _guardians_ to take his risk – even if it gave them the chance to be together. Forever.

Arthur searched Headmaster Mickey. Silently, he implored. _Will this work? Is the benefit worth the risk? Is it right to endanger the guardians... if they may or may not live happily ever after?_

Headmaster Mickey smiled. He did not smile to mock Arthur or to question his confidence. He smiled because _only_ King Arthur possessed the wisdom to make this decision.

Headmaster Mickey bowed. "You're the king."

"Yes." agreed Hiccup. He saluted as Toothless bayed. "Whatever you decide, Your Majesty."

Amalthea took Arthur's hand. She placed it over Excalibur, speaking without words.

"Well..." Arthur nodded, decision made. Kissing Amalthea, Arthur strode to the guardians and clapped his hands. He clapped three times, twice to alert the guardians and once to summon –

"Is that...?" Peter craned his neck as something unfurled from the sky. "Is that a rope?"

It was a rope. The rope had dropped from the stars, and whoever held the other end was too high to see. Wendy and Ariel immediately deffered to Peter and Jim, but the lords of Skyworld and Outerworld were lost. Magical ropes didn't _usually_ fall spontaneously from their realms – _usually_. This was definitely weird.

Arthur caught the rope unflappably (as if he expected the unpredicted event). Before the guardians could question his behavior, Arthur launched into a friendly reprimand.

"You four _stink_ at guardianship!"

The guardians blinked. They looked at each other. They looked at King Arthur. Peter sniffed his armpit then offered it questionably to Ariel and Jim. Wendy rhetorically explained that Arthur's insult was _not_ literal, they really didn't 'stink.'

The king disagreed.

"Oh no, you absolutely stink! As guardians, you are supposed to _work together_ to make _my_ life easier! But the _second_ my past self summons you to Fantasia _look_ what happens! You bicker, bicker, bicker! Fight, fight, fight! And in the process, you let my heart freeze, you triggered transnational war, you destroyed the Wishing Star, _and_ you helped me find the love of my life."

Ariel cocked her head. "We're sorry and you're welcome?"

"What you four need is _not_ separation." Arthur marched to the guardians. He handed the rope to Jim. "What you four need is _time_. What you four need time to annoy, sympathize, and understand each other! So...I am _giving_ you that time. I want you four to grow close. I want you four closer than superglue, so close you can read each other's thoughts. Jumping harptoads...I want you four to be the gram-crackers, chocolate, and marshmallow in one s'more!"

"Awkward." said Peter. He nudged Wendy and winked. "But nice analogy."

"You don't understand." Arthur pointed to the Black Hole. "The Wishing Star is gone. Fantasia is vulnerable to outerspace... what did Jim call our neighboring galaxies? Neverland? Well, I have consulted with Mr. Long John Silver –"

Arthur tugged the rope. From above, someone (Mr. Long John Silver) returned signal.

"—and Mr. Silver agrees." Arthur finished, bracing the rope against Jim. "That Neverland is a threat to Fantasia. Now, with this new threat, I will need strong, capable guardians. And right now... my guardians are weak. My guardians fight like children."

Arthur paused. He waited for each guardian to reflect. He waited for them to glance guiltily at each other before continuing.

"So..." Arthur said. "I am ordering you to get along. I am ordering you to fight for a common good despite your differences. And I am ordering you to accomplish this task... on a good old-fashioned adventure. I am ordering you to explore Neverland. Chart the galaxies surrounding us. Protect our planet. And you may return to Fantasia... _only_ when you all agree to do so. Because at that point, you will have become one."

Arthur straightened. "I, King Arthur Pendragon, Lord of Camelot, The Otherland and Fantasia, command you... _go_."

Silence.

Finally,

"You want us..." Jim ventured, "To leave Fantasia?"

"Fly off to Neverland?" confirmed Ariel. "Disappear into the stars with Silver?"

"And all because," Wendy glanced between Peter and Jim . "You want us...to get along?"

Abruptly Peter laughed.

" _Get_ _along_?! Us?! For real?! Oh my god...Wart!" Peter threw an arm around Wendy. He threw the other at the Black Hole. "That could take forever!"

"Forever, huh? Well..." Arthur reached inside his doublet. He withdrew a stopwatch. Almost smugly, he gave the watch a definitive click. _Beep._ The timer ran. The seconds sped forward, tracking time.

Arthur grinned at the guardians. "Then you better get started."

Again the rope jounced. Looking up, the guardians could _just_ see Silver tugging the opposite end from a flying rowboat. The rowboat sparkled with pixie dust, which allowed it to fly. Silver had paddled across the moon and to the Black Hole. As the guardians watched, he beckoned excitedly with an oar. He beckoned towards the Black Hole. Again he tugged the rope.

The intent was clear.

"Leave Fantasia?" Wendy lowered her gaze. "But King Arthur, what if it is forever?"

The guardians looked to Arthur. But Wendy's misgivings went unanswered.

King Arthur was gone. All that remained of the royal entourage were footprints in the moonlight.

"Gosh." Ariel stroked her stomach. She studied the Black Hole. Then she admired Camelot, uncertain which path to take. Peter, Wendy, and Jim were equally unsure. So Ariel voiced their distress.

"What do we do?"

No one answered. At least, no one answered immediately.

Three seconds later a light shown behind them. The light was thin, like an electric glow. When the guardians turned to the source, they found a girl. The girl had big green eyes, orange sneakers...and she was carrying a laptop.

The guardians did not speak. The girl's appearance was too sudden to start a casual conversation, and the way she regarded them was too intense for comfort. She studied each guardian hungrily, occasionally smiling and laughing gently to herself. Clearly her arrival was not a coincidence. It had been deliberate. She knew who they were. At least, she seemed to.

They stared at each other, the guardians and the girl. They stared until Silver tugged the rope for a third, and final, time.

"Off te Neverland!" Silver boomed. "Ye coming?!"

 _Tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap._

The girl began typing. The laptop screen illuminated her eyes. Mid-sentence she stopped and looked at the guardians. Typing a final word, she smiled at Jim and saluted to the stars.

What happened next was magical as a playwright's script.

Jim looked into the Etherium, to the next great adventure. Nodding for Peter to hold Wendy, and taking Ariel in his arms, Jim yanked Silver's rope. Together, they rose into the stars.

And Jim said (as he had one story before),

"Second star to the right... and straight on till morning."


	150. Chapter 150: The End?

**Chapter 150: The End?**

I watched the guardians disappear into the Black Hole. I saw them swallowed by a million stars.

I sighed.

Then I screamed.

I screamed because Headmaster Mickey had body slammed me.

Yes body slammed.

I wish I were exaggerating. I also wish that I gracefully escaped. But I didn't. Believe you me –Mickey Mouse was a WHOLE lot stronger than Mr. Walt Disney let on. He was also _extremely_ scrappy. That mouse had the stamina of a lion. As I scrambled for dear life, I considered Minnie a lucky girl.

"Holy crow!" I gasped, sprinting around the castle. My laptop bounced. The keyboard blurred as I tried to type. "Holy crow, holy crow, holy _fucking_ mother of crows!"

"Stop!" Headmaster Mickey darted after me. "I know who you are! Lowercase s! Storyteller! sultal!"

I ran harder. Headmaster Mickey chased, but I was faster _and_ I could multitask (the perks of being a Millennial: multitasking equals life). The multitasking was tricky, but I managed a sloppy message to my fellow fanfictioners, _begging_ them to write me out of Fantasia.

For those that don't remember, my name is sultal (and I spell it with a LOWERCASE "s"). I am the author of the Fantasia series, and this was my _second_ time entering the fanfiction.

How did I enter a fanfiction? Well, I used a magical-mathematical algorithm created by my best friend, Micatony. Basically, the magical algorithm downloaded magical coordinates onto my magical laptop to unlock a magical portal into a magical land.

Lots of _magicals_.

I had visited Fantasia once before – I appeared at the end of the first book, _Taking Fantasia._ Now that _Giving Fantasia_ was through, I decided to return.

Headmaster Mickey was _less_ than welcoming. He almost captured me. However, the moment Headmaster Mickey seized my laptop, three fanfiction writers from planet Earth wrote me out. By 'writing me out' these writers provided three coordinates (three directional points) that transported me home.

I whacked the ENTER key. My body dissolved into pixilated dust. The last thing I saw was Headmaster Mickey accidentally chipping the 'G' from my keyboard.

 _Not good._ I thought as the computer dumped me through cyberspace. _They have a piece of my world. A piece of me is in Fantasia._

Why was that bad?

It was bad because the "G" – the key from my laptop that chipped off – was part of my name. Not sultal, my penname.

The "G" was part of my _real_ name.

Micatony warned me _never_ to share my real name. Your real name anchors you to the real world. Your real name separates you from fantasy, and protects you against fictional characters... fictional characters that think storytellers are villains.

Your real name is powerful.

And if someone in the fanfiction world ever discovered your name...

"Shit."

It was dark when I landed. The cyber network had hurled me to an empty college classroom, one that I frequented during the semester when I wanted to write. My fellow fanfictioners (Micatony, Ladyanne23, and tesaria – formally HeartofGold7) were not present. _That_ was surprising: I would have expected Mic (Micatony) to crucify me the second I arrived.

Then I remembered,

"Oh duh." Heart still pounding, I probed the missing G key. "Duh. The dance is tonight."

There was a dance – it was a 'welcome back to college everybody get drunk' sort of dance. You know the type – no one is actually dancing unless they are grinding, and the number one rule is BYORSC (Bring Your Own Red Solo Cup). Good girls travel in packs. Bad girls travel with boys. All boys travel between girls.

College – it's the good life.

The dance was being held in my dorm. The building was packed ceiling to floor, so I was expecting to reach my room unnoticed. Not the case. As I progressed, I saw Ladyanne23 and tesaria. Ladyanne23 was flirting shyly with a Peter Pan – Collin Morgan crossover. tesaria had hooked with a Jim Hawkins look-alike. I felt obligated to make eye contact with each girl and shoot a quick thumbs up. _Nice ladies. Do work._

tesaria returned my thumbs up. Ladyanne23 smiled, but nodded slyly to a dark corner.

I followed her cue. And I saw him: Micatony. Mic was preying on a gorgeous blonde bimbo, wedged conveniently between the wall and her bosom. He looked devilishly preoccupied with her company, when suddenly his eyes snapped.

His dark Italian glare hit me. Like a knife.

I bolted. Mic caught me in the stairwell.

"What the flipping fuck did I say about using my equation?"

We fought like brother and sister. Mic was furious that I had entered a fanfiction, but he was horrified when I showed him the absent laptop key. Mic investigated the metal clip and rubber stopper. He swore like a sailor. Then he hacked into my fanfiction account – to "check for viruses and intruders." I sat numbly on the bottom step. The thrill of my completed story was completely overshadowed by Mic's _constant_ derision.

"So the G key is in Fantasia?"

"Yes."

"That freaking mouse – "

"—Headmaster Mickey—"

"—has the G key to your laptop?"

"Probably."

"sultal your freaking real name starts with a G."

"I know."

"They could seriously figure out who you are! They could suck you back into the fantasy world with that information!"

"Dude I'm sorry."

"No, you're a moron."

"Not helping."

"Not trying to."

"Mission accomplished."

"Who's the chic that writes those poems?"

I frowned, not expecting the question. "What?"

Mic leaned into the screen. "You've got a reader that writes kick-ass poems after each chapter, right? What's that chic's penname?"

"Big4girl." I answered. "Why?"

Mic groaned. He turned the computer.

Someone had written a poem. But the poem was not posted as a comment - the poem had been sent as a personal message.

It read:

 _Twinkle twinkle little star_

 _Your story's come much too far_

 _Would there be a greater woe?_

 _If your four became zero?_

 _Twinkle twinkle little 's'_

 _Write yourself out of this mess._

It was signed: _Mordred._

"Mordred." Mic spoke flatly. He sounded sick. "The legendary nephew... and traitor...of King Arthur."

I stared at the moniker. For some reason, I swear I heard laughing. Dark, psychotic laughing.

"Holy crow." I clenched my necklace. "What does this mean?"

"Well that depends." Mic turned. "Mordred was the son of Arthur's sister. At least, in the legends he was. Did you create a character that could bear Mordred? Does Arthur have an evil sister?"

"No." I replied, thinking through the Fantasian family trees. "But...oh no." My insides dropped. Painstakingly I admitted, "But Amalthea does. Amalthea has two sisters. Odette...and Eris."

The shadows definitely writhed around us.

"Okay." Mic returned my laptop. He tapped the missing G key. "Looks like Mordred is onto you. He exists, and he's trying to figure out who you are – _and_ he wants to use your storytelling against Fantasia. You're part of the fantasy world, wench. Better get writing."

Mic drained his red solo cup. Unexpectedly, he offered a supportive smile. "How soon can you post the first chapter? I mean, there's _obviously_ going to be another book. Right?"

"Yes." I replied, glancing again at the shadows. It might have been my imagination, but I swear the shadows recoiled from my laptop. "The third book is called _Keeping Fantasia_. The first post... will be September twenty first."

 **THE END**


End file.
